Affettuoso
by TwiWifeLife
Summary: "My name's Bella Swan & I'm a 19 year old wanderer. Most people would refer to me as homeless, but I'm a forever optimist." After suffering a great loss, Bella is forced into a life of destitution. Having experienced his own misfortunes, Edward is barely keeping his head above water. When their worlds collide, will they be able to save each other? Or will it be too late? AH Rated M
1. Chapter One

**This story will officially be co-written by the beautiful****, S****illy Sad Sarah Twilighted. Thank you for giving Edward a voice. You, my love, are amazeballs!**

**I want to give a MONUMENTAL thanks to my fantastical beta, Robsmyyummy Cabanaboy. Thank you for allowing me to pop your beta cherry. Snoochie boochies, babe!**** And thank you to my awesome pre-reader, JM, for keeping all music related topics on point. You, girl, are the bomb-diggity!**

**I am already SUPER encouraged from the outpouring of support from my summary and teaser, posted on Facebook. Thank you so very much to all those who have had an encouraging word or two for me. You all are fan-freakin-tastic, the real bee's knees!**

**Warning: This story is rated M for a reason. It will have some dark topics, full of angst. At different points, there will be graphic scenes containing violence, adult language, and rape. There will also be some citrus-y goodness later on. I will give warning before those chapters.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters, those are all property of the super fabulous, Stephanie Meyer. I do, however, own the angst driven world that they are all residing in throughout this story.**

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

**BPOV**

I stare out at the dark alley, listening to the disturbing sounds of the street. Henry is drunkenly yelling at the fire; at least I assume he's yelling at the fire since everyone else around here is scared to even speak to the old man. Somewhere a little further down the alley, there's a woman screaming, but I try to filter out the shrill sound. I hate to think of the reason for her cry.

I hear the honking cabs as they drive by the surrounding streets. A gunshot blasts far off in the distance, sending a chill up my spine. There's the mindless chatter of people walking the streets without a clue, or just not caring about what's lurking in these alleyways that I call home most nights.

I try to focus on the sounds of the rain hitting the top of my box, otherwise known as home, for now. Hey, whatever keeps me dry, don't judge. The tapping of the raindrops hitting my roof calms and soothes me. As much as I hate the cold and wet, I always love when it rains because it gives me something beautiful to focus on. The sound reminds me of the symphonies and orchestral pieces that my mom used to listen to when I was younger. It relaxes me when I can push all other sounds out and just focus on the delicacy of the rainfall.

I close my eyes and try to get a little shut eye. As I drift off, I start reliving my younger years. Dreams can be so peaceful and painful all at the same time.

_My mom is smiling at me with love in her eyes leaving me breathless for a few seconds. She's sitting at her vintage Concert Grand Steinway, playing and watching me with nothing but affection in her eyes._

_Renee Romine was a child prodigy. She began composing music at the ripe old age of 8 and by the time she was twelve, Mariss Jansons, the chief conductor of the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam was trying to recruit her. When she was fourteen, she finally obliged and began her work with the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra where she went on to compose many of their famous pieces. She also was an on-staff pianist for the Orchestra until she became pregnant with me at 21, at which time she decided to step down from the spotlight. Music ran through her veins though, so she never stopped playing and writing. Some of my very first memories are of me sitting next to her on her piano bench while she played through some of the most stunning pieces I have ever heard._

_I walk over to her as she finishes her most recent composition, a piece dedicated to me. "Come here, baby girl." She pats the seat next to her on the bench and opens her arms for me. As I find myself wrapped in her loving embrace, I look up at her and see the tears in her eyes. "I love you, Bella."_

_I smile at her warmth and tell her I love her, too._

I'm startled awake by a deafening crash of thunder. Unfortunately, the rain that I love so much is usually accompanied by thunder and lightning, both of which petrify me. Alright Mother Nature, I'm awake! Thanks!

It's colder now than it was when I fell asleep. In this late hour of the night, it's quieter. It's kinda eerie to be honest.

I burrow further under my putrid smelling blanket, which has really seen better days. It's the same blanket that I was given by a volunteer at a shelter 4 years ago. I've been carrying it around with me in my knapsack ever since. I've definitely been due for a new one for quite some time. With winter well on its way, I need to see what I can do to make that happen sooner rather than later.

Maybe I'll panhandle and see if I can get enough money to get something that will help keep me warm. Unfortunately, a lot of my childlike features have diminished over the last couple years so people aren't really as drawn to me as they used to be. When I first found myself out on the streets, I noticed people would give me the obligatory dollar or more. It's almost funny how much that has changed in the past year or two.

Maybe I can check out some of the shelters in this area later today. I might get lucky and score another blanket. Maybe even some winter clothes. God knows I could use some warmer duds. As soon as the sun comes up, I'll get my stuff together and start my search.

I've been lying here for a few hours now and daybreak is finally here. I quietly pack up my bag and start out on my adventure for the day, but not before I grab the apple at the bottom of my bag that I snatched from a local Farmer's Market the other day. I begin my trek and slowly eat my breakfast.

I decide to go a little out of my way so I can pass by Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts. It's always one of my favorite places to stroll around. I'm always hoping that I may overhear a performance.

Today, I seem to be in luck. I hear the faint tinkling of the ivories and decide to get a better listen. I walk around to one of the stage entrances and sneak in. As I get closer, I hear the most melodic sound of Prelude No. 4 in F Major. My steps falter and I am breathless. That composition. It was one of the last pieces my mom ever played for me, knowing it was one of my favorites. I haven't heard that arrangement since.

I'm snapped out of my reverie when the music abruptly stops. Other than my mother, I have not heard that piece played so flawlessly. I'm stunned. I want to go investigate. To go see who could be playing that piece so exquisitely. But I also want to run and hide. I want to go somewhere that I can allow myself to lose it and cry without prying eyes.

Before I can make that decision, I'm brought to a standstill once again as I find myself completely entranced. Eyes that resemble green lasers stare directly at me. They're piercing through to my soul. I feel so exposed and defenseless yet I can't look away. These eyes appear to have seen a lifetime.

I finally draw my eyes away from the emerald pools and appraise the owner. He's tall, at least 6 feet, and lithe but lean. He takes care of his body, that's for sure. Copper colored locks are all over the place. It looks as though he's been running his delightfully slender fingers through his hair for days. Jaw so chiseled, it could cut granite. Sensually plump lips form a grimace as he eyes me.

The expression he's giving me is full of distaste and repugnance. He looks as though he is about to speak.

And I run.

* * *

**End notes:  
**

**TwiWifeLife: **I know it's not very long, but are you intrigued yet?

We will be posting every other Friday or Saturday from here on out, which means bi-weekly. Please be sure to review and let us know what you think.

Until next time…

**SSST: **You can't just end it there, begging for reviews! This is how you get a review….. Guess what folks Edward is getting his rocks off in the next chap!

**TwiWifeLife: **Well, That's a little vulgar, if you ask me, but I guess it works.

**SSST: **Who doesn't wanna see Edward get some?!

**TwiWifeLife:** See y'all in a couple weeks!


	2. Chapter Two

**Wow! The response that we've already gotten is SUPER DUPER encouraging! Thank you to all of those that have put this story or me on follow. And a HUGE thank you to those of you who took the time to review.**

**Thanks to the BEAUTIFUL SSST for this AWESOME chapter. We sure do work great together! There is a small lemon in this chapter. You have now been warned.**

**And of course, thank you to our amazing beta, the fantastically talented, Yummy! Once again, Smoochie Boochies, babe!**

**Alrighty, we'll see you down at the bottom. Enjoy!**

**Warning: This story is rated M for a reason. It will have some dark topics, full of angst. At different points, there will be graphic scenes containing violence, adult language, and rape.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters, those are all property of the super fabulous, Stephanie Meyer. I do, however, own the angst driven world that they are all residing in throughout this story.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

**EPOV**

As I sit here, getting lost in the music, my mind wanders. I try not to let it, too many bad places it could go and I am too sober for that right now. Rehearsal time is limited and with the constant interruptions due to changes in the schedule or program, it gets tedious, but it keeps me occupied.

I've been with the New York Philharmonic for five years now, just a mindless drone playing through the rhythm. I feel the music, but I don't feel the attachment to it like I used to in times past.

Like when I was still composing.

Stopping that train of thought, I start on a song I know all too well, Robert D. Vandall's Prelude No. 4 in F Major. It always manages to calm the darkness that threatens to overtake me and pull me into the depths of hell and suffering.

As I play, I feel a cold draft blow through the stage area. The unexpected company is unnerving, sending chills down my spine. It's probably just Alan with another rewrite to the song correlation for tomorrow night. I'm dreading the idea that it might be another one of my fellow female musicians here to proposition me, yet again.

I stop playing, realizing I have many other things that I need to do before tomorrow's show anyway. As I walk toward the stage entrance to leave, I'm startled.

The frosty breeze from before slaps me in the face, cutting through the heat of the building, and I can feel eyes burning into me but I can barely see her. As quickly as I take notice of her dark eyes hidden amongst the shadows, she's a blur of brown from her long stringy hair to her shabby dark clothing, because she's running. I'm stunned. I'm not sure if I'm angrier at the unnecessary interruption or her lack of decorum to just cut and run without a word. I should chase after her, hell, I should call security. But she looked scared out of her mind. A look that I know all too well, I see it every day when I look in the mirror.

I walk quickly over to the door. I may be an ass, but I'm not heartless… most days. If she's in trouble, I can't just walk away.

She's gone. No surprise there, they all come and go which is perfectly fine by me. Actually, I prefer it that way.

I walk back to the piano, grabbing my sheet music before closing the lid to the Grand Steinway and walking out. All I can think of right now is getting a drink. This day was a total waste. The arrangements they have me playing are too easy. It feels as though I've been playing them since I was in diapers.

Finding what I'm looking for isn't possible at a dive bar on a Monday, so I decide to say screw it and hit up Flute. It's been a while since I've been there, so I'm sure I won't run into any of my past conquests. Tonight is Cabaret Night, so maybe I can even get a little down and dirty in the luxury, high-class bathrooms.

Unless you know the bouncer personally, or prepay for bottle service, getting in is touch and go. The VIP lounge has a nice view of the show and the dance floor. I order 2 bottles of Magnum Grey Goose; it's one of their premium top shelf vodkas, and usually just one bottle is good for me, but tonight I plan to entertain.

Stressed and ready to forget everything, I'm ready to enjoy a hot piece of ass with a side of vodka. The waitress that serves me the first bottle is a pretty brunette with legs for days and her outfit leaves very little to the imagination. She's eying me like sex on a stick but the reminder of the girl who interrupted me today is too present in this girl's appearance. The runner's long brown locks and brown eyes are too similar, so she's a _hell no_ for tonight. Plus, if I screw the staff, I run a greater risk of seeing them again if or when I choose to come back.

I sit back and take a few hard shots and dismiss the waitress for now, I have no need for her hovering. Like she even stands a chance. I sit and watch as women on stage and on the floor dry hump and practically have sex with each other. Tonight is just too easy and too normal.

As I scan the bar, I see a hot redhead grinding up on her friend, but she reminds me too much of my bitch ex and I'm not in the mood for reminders tonight. I take another shot while a girl with long blonde hair comes up and sits beside me. Her fake tits are popping right out of the top of her barely-there white dress.

"You look so lonely over here all by yourself," she comments. I have to admit, blondes aren't normally my first choice, but everything about her screams fake, pretty sure everything is fake including her fucking nose. I give her my signature panty-dropping smirk, and she looks at me like she just hit the lotto.

"Well," I tell her, "I'm not so lonely now that you're here."

I offer her a glass and she motions for the waitress to bring over some cranberry juice. I'm almost disgusted that she would water down my offer, but she's hot and I'm horny so I pour the juice in with her vodka and watch as she drinks. Her lips wrap around the straw suggestively and my eyes follow the motion, imagining her mouth wrapped around my cock. She finishes her drink and asks me to dance. I wasn't in for the whole dog and pony show but what the hell, one dance and maybe I can get her out of here.

When we step on the floor a beat rocks the place as she does a little spin and plants her nice, firm, round ass into my crotch. I grab her hips, pressing into her as we dance to the music. I feel my cock hardening and it's no surprise to her as she pushes back even harder. The feeling is bliss. I close my eyes and lose myself in the music and the bump and grind of her body along the hard length of my cock. It's almost a pleasure overload, and if I were some teenage boy, my pants would be a mess with my own humiliation. But I have strength and stamina to last for as long as I want, when I actually give two fucks about who is getting me off.

I haven't felt like this since I was with my ex. I remember being happy, the feeling of caring about her, holding her in my arms and waking up with her. But happily ever after is bullshit.

I open my eyes to look upon the woman still gyrating against me. I imagine her taking off her clothes, her hands all over me. I know this feeling will be quickly fleeting. It will be what gets me off, what I lose myself in. This is all I need for tonight. Tomorrow will be a different bar and a different girl.

After heading back to the VIP lounge, we polish off the second bottle of Goose and just as I'm about to ask the waitress to call a private car, the blonde opens her mouth. "Don't worry about it. My driver is outside with my car." She licks her lips, and for a moment I feel like her prey. Her eyes pierce right through me as she rubs her hand up my thigh and across my steel rod. I let her believe I'm easily manipulated, it's easier when she thinks she's just using me.

When we get up to leave, I throw a nice tip on the table. I can't help thinking of the brunette that disturbed my rehearsal time and the brunette that served us tonight, watching as I passed her over for a person who's had more work done than Michael Jackson.

Climbing into the back seat of her car, I can't shake the feeling of being watched. She tells the driver to take us to her place and then closes the privacy window. She doesn't even wait for me to say or do anything before she mounts me.

I know her mouth has been sterilized by the amount of alcohol she consumed tonight, but I'm still not a big fan of kissing; it's too intimate. So after a few tongue delving, lip locking moments, she does something unexpected. She lowers herself onto the floor and works my belt buckle free, undoing the button of my pants and lowering my zipper. My cock springs free from its confines and she practically purrs in delight. I lay my head back on the headrest and let out a heady moan as she strokes me once, twice, then lowers those sweet collagen-injected lips onto my rigid cock. She's sucking like a hoover fucking vacuum! There's no air left between the inside of her cheeks and my cock, she's perfectly sealed. I try not to think of how good she is at this and how she got that way and I just enjoy.

An uncontrollable loud groan rips through me as I feel her hand join the action, giving a little pull on my sack. I'm well groomed. I prefer to keep myself hairless now after contracting a case of the itch from sleeping with someone while shit-faced awhile back.

The euphoria is unbelievable as I feel her moan around my cock. I open my eyes and realize her right hand has disappeared under the bottom of her dress. I'm only assuming she got herself off as she growls and kind of melts into my lap still sucking on my cock. I release myself into the back of her throat and she laps it up, making sure to clean me up completely. She reminds me of a kitten, purring while finishing off the last drops of milk in the bowl. She continues with the cat-like behavior as the smile that spreads across her face could be compared to the Cheshire cat and I'm in motherfucking Wonderland.

She leisurely stretches her body up off of the floor and sits next to me on the back seat. Laying her head on my shoulder, she continues stroking my thigh. After a few more minutes, I'm ready to go again and thankfully, we're pulling up to an amazing condo complex. I zip and button up my pants before we climb out of the car.

As we walk past her door man and get onto the elevator to go to her top rise condo, you can tell right away she's no cheap lay. She's got a lot of style, something Esme would be proud of. I shake my head; I have all the fake I need for tonight waiting for me, and I'm not about to bring an ounce of reality to this, so I quickly banish the thought of her from my head.

She offers me a seat and a drink and I accept both. I get comfortable on the couch and she hands me vodka, not as good as my Goose, but it goes down smooth enough as she straddles my lap and starts grinding on me.

After having a mouth full of my dick, I'm not in the mood to stick my tongue in there. Stalling, I lean us forward and slide my jacket from my shoulders, placing it next to us across the back of the couch. I settle us back, tugging down the top of her dress. Just as I thought; fake, firm and barely movable. I suckle on her neck and work my way down to her nipple, her hands gripping my hair and pulling me in. I can't even tell if it's out of desperation to feel something or if she's really enjoying it. Even her moaning sounds fake.

I realize this isn't what I want. I roughly slide her off my lap and stand up. She looks taken back before I bend her over the arm of the couch. Her dress is so short that I barely need to push it up; I see her soaking-wet white thong. She moans as I rub my hands up the sides of her ass and give it a quick smack. With an ass like this, she had to have some work done here as well or she has some amazing genes.

I can't remember her name. Actually, I don't even remember exchanging names, but that's par for the course tonight, I guess. I unbutton my pants, dropping them and my dick slaps her ass, once again freed from my trousers. She looks back at me, biting her lip and wiggling her ass a little more. It makes me smirk for the second time tonight. I reach between her legs and start rubbing her clit to get her ready, but she's already soaking wet, her thong ruined, so I rip it off. The sound of fabric tearing causes her to squeal a bit. I slap her ass again.

I reach into my jacket pocket and slide on one of the magnums that I stored there just for tonight. I give myself a few extra strokes for good measure. She seems to like the sight, but I can't stand her eyes on me. I wrap my hand in her hair and give a little pull as she turns her head back around and arches into me, moaning deeply.

The fabric is gathered around her waist; it still amazes me that her tits barely bounce. I keep my left hand tangled up in her hair, forcing her face forward and align myself up with her wet pussy. I slam into her hard, her voice a strangled scream.

"Oh god!"

I don't even give her a chance to adjust to my length as I pound in again.

"You like that, don't you?"

"Mmmmmm," is her only response.

I continue driving into her over and over again. I feel her body start to tighten and she's moaning and panting hard.

"Touch yourself." I want her to get there faster, so I ram in again and again, pushing her to the very brink of her climax. She's pulling and pinching her nipples, and I can't help but wonder if she even feels that or if she's just doing it because I told her to. I feel one of her hands slide down to her clit and her fingers graze my cock as I push in even deeper. She's screaming now, lost in her own ecstasy.

The walls of her pussy clamp around my cock as she comes hard. The feeling is exquisite as I pump in a few more times and release my load into the protection of my latex. She's still panting hard when I remove myself from her, and dispose of the condom. I wrap it in a tissue and slide it in my pocket. I learned better than to leave my load behind. You can't trust anyone, that's my motto.

As she stands on wobbly legs, she removes her dress; she's like a piece of plastic art work. She stumbles a bit from being thoroughly fucked and I assume she's still feeling the effects of the alcohol. I lean back and stretch, relishing the release of tension I've been dealing with all day. Fuck, that felt good.

She stretches out on the couch and I'm not sure if she's looking to cuddle or go another round but I sit there relaxed, enjoying my post orgasmic bliss. A few moments later, she answers my question when she starts to snore.

Well ain't that some shit!

Normally, I have to sneak out in the middle of the night to make my escape, but hell if I'm gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. I notice a blanket thrown across the corner of the couch. I may be an ass, but I'm not completely fucking heartless, so I drape the blanket over her naked form and get dressed, making sure not to leave anything behind.

As I walk to the door, I chance a glance back at her. She was definitely fake in every way and I still have no clue what her name is. This night couldn't have gone any better. I open the door and lock the bottom knob, pulling it quietly behind me.

I was probably only up there maybe an hour. As I pass the front desk, the doorman just smirks at me and gives me a sly nod before I exit and hail a cab.

I give the cabby my address and find myself relaxing for the first time all day. I find solace in my own private domain, never seen or touched by a female, unless you count my family. But that's a whole other story that I really don't want to think about right now.

We pull up to the front of my high-rise apartment building in Tribeca and I step out of the cab, leaning in to pay the driver. After he drives off, I turn around and just admire the building. I can't help it. I couldn't ask for a better apartment and I'm so glad that I lucked out when this place came on the market. Fifty million dollars later, it was all mine. My palace of solitude, just the way I like it.

* * *

**End notes:**

**TWL: **Wow… Okay SSST, that was pretty hot! The vulgarity from before is now excused… totally worth it. But I gotta say, Edward seems like a douche.

**SSST: **He may seem like a "douche" now, but he's been through hell! I promise you when he finds something worth giving a damn about he'll work on changing.

**TWL: **Oh, I believe you… I just had to say what I know some readers are thinking. ;)

**SSST: **Well, I can't wait to see what your Bella does next.

**TWL: **Me either!

To see photos of Edward's lavish apartment, follow the link on my profile. See y'all in two weeks. And as always, be sure to review and let us know what you think.


	3. Chapter Three

**I am completely overwhelmed at the response that this story is already getting. You guys are all pure awesome sauce! And thank you to those of you who have left reviews, you all seriously ROCK hard.**

**Thank you to my co-writer, SSST, for giving Edward his voice… and giving us all a little citrus-y lovin in the last chappy. You're giving me a lady boner. Love you!**

**And an ENORMOUS thanks to my lovely beta, Yummy! You completely saved this chapter. Thank you for all of your beta'ing brilliance. And happy belated birthday. Smoochie boochies, babe!**

**This is our longest chapter yet. See y'all down at the bottom for some endnotes from SSST and yours truly. Enjoy!  
**

**Warning: This story is rated M for a reason. It will have some dark topics, full of angst. At different points, there will be graphic scenes containing violence, adult language, and rape.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters, those are all property of the super fabulous, Stephanie Meyer. I do, however, own the angst driven world that they are all residing in throughout this story.**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

**BPOV**

I ran!

I've had so many glares and hateful words directed straight at me through the last few years. I've had people look down at me like I was below them because of our social standings. I've gotten looks of sympathy, anger, confusion, and just plain curiosity. For some reason though, the thought of that beautiful man not approving of me brings me pain. So deep in the pit of my soul, it hurts. I couldn't stand there and see the disgust or hear the disparaging words that he may have had to say… so I ran.

I can't help but rethink everything about the man with the emerald eyes. He looked like the perfect male specimen, dressed in what could only be Prada or Gucci or some other high end men's suit. He was sans jacket though, with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, giving me an amazing glimpse of his sinewy forearms. The top two buttons were opened providing me with a provocative view of his collarbone and toned upper chest, with a smattering of dark bronze hair peeking out at me.

The look that he gave me was justifiable; I understand it. My nose works fine and I certainly don't smell like a bed of roses, that's for sure. I can't remember the last time I took a shower. I'm pretty sure it was at least three weeks ago. I probably look atrocious. I would've been frightened if I were in his position. But still...

_Isabella Marie Swan, get it together!_ Why does this man's opinion of me matter so much? It's not like I'll ever even see the guy again. I mean, even as a wanderer, I rarely ever see the same faces of other vagrants for more than a week or two.

By the time I stop running, it takes me a minute to realize where I am. I do a quick evaluation to assess my surroundings and notice that I totally ran past the first place I wanted to stop, Church of St. Paul the Apostle. I decide to go ahead and turn around. The other shelters and soup kitchens that I want to check out are further south toward Midtown and Lower Manhattan. Backtracking, I make a right on Broadway and head to 60th St.

When I arrive at the church, I can see the line is coming out of the door. This isn't a place that I usually go to for assistance with anything, so I don't know if this is normal or if maybe there's something going on today that I haven't heard about. I'm crossing my fingers that this might mean I'll get some new clothes, well, new to me at least.

As the line moves, I'm finally inside the beautiful and warm church. Surprisingly, the line is moving pretty quickly. It looks as though no one is leaving empty handed. Yikes! I hope there's still some stuff left by the time I get up there.

I'm about midway through when I suddenly hear a commotion at the front. I look around for a second and see everyone around me trying to catch a glimpse of the scene as well. Sticking to myself and minding my own business is what's kept me alive and safe for the past four years, so I tilt my head down, my hair providing a curtain to shield me from the outside.

I'm drawn out of my privacy veil when the yelling gets closer. I look up and make eye contact with deep, cold icy blue eyes. The angry man is staring daggers at me as he spits expletives at the two men escorting him out. He looks older than I am, maybe mid to late thirties. Clearly, he hasn't showered in a very long time, proven by the separated chunks of his greasy blonde hair.

As they pass us, he reaches out to grab me but misses when I shudder and pull my body the other way. They're almost out the door when the raging man turns completely around and points at me, sending cold chills down my spine. The sinister look that he's giving me is absolutely terrifying.

What is going on with me today? I'm like a magnet for the distasteful and creepy looks.

Once the doors close, everything goes back to normal, for the most part. Though, I can't seem to shake the frightened feeling. There are a few people still whispering and snickering about the tumultuous man. I try to ignore the sideways glances that I receive from those few.

The line is moving again, and I find myself close enough to the front to see that there are still tons of supplies and clothes available. It makes me pretty happy, considering I didn't even think I would be getting the couple things I desperately needed.

I get to the front where a woman with chestnut hair smiles warmly at me, asking for my size. She's refined, dressed in a nice pair of slacks and a button down forest green blouse, making her gentle green eyes pop. She has on minimal jewelry, including a huge rock on her finger. She kindly stares at me. I think she's waiting on me to answer. I honestly don't know what size actually fits me right now, so I tell her exactly that.

She pulls me to the side, behind one of the few dividers set up where there is a clothing rack and lots of boxes.

"Hi honey. I'm Esme." She's holding her hand out to me. It takes me a second longer than it should to process that she's waiting for me to introduce myself.

"I-I'm Isabella. Bella," I stutter, shaking her hand weakly. She grins at me.

"Nice to meet you, Bella. Now, let's see if we can figure out what size you wear." She starts digging through boxes, placing a few items off to the side. I stare at her thoughtfully. She seems like she would have a lot more important things to do than being here helping dirty, homeless people. She's a petite little thing, at least an inch or two shorter than I am. She looks like she dresses up all the time. She even has on some intense heels, but it doesn't seem that she has any issues functioning in them.

"Okay, Bella. Here are a few things that I think should fit you. Go ahead and try them on." She points behind another divider, and I assume that's the changing area she wants me to use. I glance down at myself and realize how much of a mess I truly am. I don't want to try on anything clean with the probability of leaving it all stinky.

She must sense my dread because she gives me the sweetest smile and quietly says, "Oh sweetie, don't you worry about the way you look. That's what we're here for."

"I just don't want to ruin any of these clothes. Especially if they don't fit me. Then they would be left for someone else with my funk all over them."

"Well, we have a few showers in the back. I'm pretty sure we could put your name on the list to use one."

"Could I wait to try everything on until then? Would that be okay?"

She smiles at me. "Sure sweetheart."

She steps out of our little area and motions for me to follow her. As we're walking, I think about how kind this woman is. There's just this tenderness to the way that she's dealing with me, and I couldn't be more grateful. The last time I came to a shelter, the volunteers that I dealt with all treated me like I was scum on the bottom of their shoes. They must've been there taking part in some mandatory community service or something. I mean, it's not like there aren't people who actually enjoy helping others. If I was in a different social position, I would feel honored to volunteer. Besides, it's not like we all ask for this life.

Esme guides me to another table where there are a few people hanging out. She points down to a piece of paper, and I assume it's the waiting list for showers. As she's talking to a gentleman behind the table, I chance a look at the list before writing my name. It doesn't seem too horribly long. Hopefully, I won't have to wait all day to get in the shower. I really just want to get cleaned up, get what I need, and go. I'm hoping to get to one of the less busy shelters before dark. The chances of me actually getting a bed for the night are a lot slimmer once the sun starts going down. I do take priority over the men though, who make up the majority of drifters in New York City, so that's a big plus.

Esme steps back over to me. "Richard says that it should only be about a half an hour wait for a shower. When was the last time you ate? Would you like to go grab something in the kitchen while you wait?"

That apple that I ate for breakfast is long gone by now and it's been 3 days since I actually got a meal in my stomach. The thought makes my stomach growl loudly, and I believe Esme has her answer.

She guides me to the kitchen. As we approach, I hear the clatter of utensils and trays being moved along with the dragging of feet. I also hear the enjoyment coming from those who are truly happy to be getting a meal.

My stomach growls again before I work my way to the end of the lengthy line. It's moving pretty swiftly, all things considered, and before I know it, I'm being handed a tray. They ask me what I would prefer, and I can't help but lick my lips. I decide on the lasagna and some salad. I look over to find Esme standing there waiting for me with a cup of water.

"Would you like some coffee or tea, dear?" She places the cup on my tray as I nod.

"Some coffee would be amazing." I can't hold back the excitement at the idea of not only drinking something warm, but sipping the black ichor of life. Yum!

I take a seat at a table with an older man and woman, sitting across the table from them, minding my own business.

Esme walks over with a steaming Styrofoam cup full of the dark lifeblood, gently handing it to me. Coffee happens to be one of my weaknesses. It's one of the rare things that still brings me joy and excitement in my otherwise bleak and daunting life.

"Did you need any cream or sugar?"

"No, thank you. I like it just like this." I smile into the warmth of the cup as I breathe in the vapors. I'm a coffee purist. Plus, taking it straight makes things less complicated for those times when I can't get any cream or sugar. When I do get my hands on those condiments, there are so many better uses for them than ruining a perfectly black cup of Joe. I remember there was a time when my mom and I would grind our own beans. Dark Roast Colombian was all we ever drank. But that time has passed and so has she.

I digress and glance at my tray of food. My stomach takes that moment to express its hunger, so I chow down.

At some point, Esme must've left because when I peek up from my forkful of pasta, she's nowhere to be seen. That's fine with me; I don't like when people hover; it makes me nervous.

I practically inhale my food, not ladylike in the slightest, but I'm way past formal decorum at this point. I'm savoring my beloved cup of coffee, afraid of how long it may be before I get another. I get up and take my dishes to the counter where volunteers are collecting and washing everything. Esme is by my side again.

"I was just coming to let you know that a shower is available for you now. If you'd like I can show you where they are."

"That would be great. Thank you." I gulp down every last drop of my coffee and toss the cup before following her, but realize we're walking back to the room with dividers. She smiles, seeing the confusion on my face. "I figured you would at least want some clean clothes to put on after your shower. Why don't we find some sweatpants and a t-shirt for you?"

I hadn't even thought of that. That would be nice. I smile and nod at her as we continue on to the clothing selection. She looks through some of the clothes that she put off to the side earlier and grabs a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. They look like they might be a little big on me, but I'm not one to complain. Anything warm and clean is a step up from what I've got now.

She walks me over to a rather large bathroom and hands me a couple of travel size bottles of shampoo and conditioner, along with a bar of soap, a toothbrush with a small travel container of toothpaste, and a towel.

"I'm required to inform you of a few rules for the showers, whether they may pertain to you or not. Rule number one, please respect the personal space of the women in the other shower stalls. Rule number two, we don't actually have a time limit in place, but we ask that you be mindful of others. You're not the only one here who would like a chance to get cleaned up. And rule number three, please be sure to wear these slippers while inside the stall as well as in the dressing room. Just come and find me once you're done. I'll be out in the front where we met." She hands me the slippers which are really just some foam flip flops.

I give her my kindest smile and take the proffered footwear. "Thank you."

I go back to the locker room area and find an open locker. I take my boots off and put them in the locker, along with my backpack and jacket.

I remove my socks but hold on to them, deciding that I would rather have all my stinky clothes in the shower with me, that way they can get a quick wash during my shower. I put the thin pieces of foam on my feet before heading in. I quietly make my way to an open curtain, throwing my towel and clean clothes over the rack directly outside the stall. After closing the curtain behind me, I remove my foul clothing and place it all on floor in the corner of the stall.

I turn on the shower and am immediately accosted with a cold spray. Before I can scream out in surprise, the water is quickly heating, and I take delight in it.

As I'm standing under the now amazingly hot shower, my mind drifts back to a time when showers were a normal part of my day. Every day. Sometimes, more than once a day. A time when the future seemed so hopeful and promising.

I snap out of that haze quickly. I don't have the time or energy to think about the past. I grab the pile of dirty clothes and stick them by my feet so that they can get somewhat washed. The smell of cleanliness is so refreshing that I can't help but stand and revel in it a little. I wash everything twice for good measure and check the clothes at my feet to make sure they're no longer smelly. Once I establish that they're suitable to wear again, I turn off the shower and start wringing them out as best I can.

I dry myself and get dressed, noticing that the clothes Esme gave me are definitely big on me, but the pants stay up, so I'm happy. I grab my wrung-out clothes and hold them away from my dry body, grab my dry, clean socks off the towel rack, and walk back to the locker room.

I quickly find the locker that I used and remove my belongings. I grab one of the plastic grocery bags that I usually store in my backpack, for those "just in case" moments, and put my wet clothes in it. Hopefully it won't rain today so I can set them out to dry; otherwise they'll start to smell like mildew. I learned that lesson the hard way when I first landed on the streets. Yuck! I'll never make that mistake again.

I remove the towel from my hair and pat down any excess water before throwing it over my shoulder and collecting the rest of my things. Walking back out to the front of the church, I spot Esme standing off to the side. She sees me and starts walking and pointing toward the area with the dividers, where we were earlier.

When we're standing beside each other behind one of the dividers, Esme looks at me and starts digging into some of the surrounding boxes. Her little arms are moving so fast that I can barely see them, when she suddenly stops and turns to me.

"Those clothes are certainly not your size, are they? Let's see if we can find some smaller sizes." She moves onto another box and begins her search again.

I look down, tucking my hair behind one ear, embarrassed that I've become so skinny over the last few years. I wasn't overweight or anything like that to begin with, so I definitely didn't need to lose much to be skinny - I'm practically just skin and bones now.

She starts hanging clothing over the rack, and I glance at some of the materials. There's no way I'll be wearing some of that while living on the street, it's just not plausible. There are a few things that I can see from here that will definitely be nice to have.

I chance a glance at her and notice that she has stopped her digging and is looking at me.

"If you don't like some of the clothes, please don't feel obligated to take it. We want you to take the stuff that you like and what will keep you warmest. You can take whatever you'd like and try it on over there." She's pointing behind another divider in the corner of the little makeshift room.

I smile at her and nod; glad that she doesn't think I'm being ungrateful. "Thank you."

I start weeding through the items, pulling out a couple pairs of jeans and a few long sleeve shirts, as well as a jacket.

I duck into the small designated dressing room and start trying things on. Man, I really wish I had a bra on right now, but the only one I own is in my wet clothes, and there's not much left to it anyway – it is four years old.

Surprisingly, one pair of the jeans fit perfectly and thankfully, they're really comfortable. Three of the long sleeve shirts fit as well. Things are already looking up.

I step out in the jeans and one of the shirts and notice Esme waiting by the clothing rack with a couple small packages in her hand. My cheeks flame up immediately, recognizing the packages to be underwear - brand new underwear. I believe there is another package with socks and another pack of something that I can't see, but I can't take my eyes away from the underwear pack, feeling utterly humiliated.

"Oh honey, don't you be embarrassed. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I won't say anything more. I will set these by your backpack and if you decide to take them, great. If not, then they will just go to someone else who may or may not need them."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to seem thankless, it's just an uncomfortable situation for me. I am immensely appreciative to you and everyone here. I just remember a time when I never had to worry about anything. Now, I'm being given a pack of simple undergarments because I've been wearing the same three pairs for the past four years. It's pretty humiliating."

I'm abruptly engulfed in a warm embrace and instantly transported back to a happier time.

_I'm riding my new bike that my mom just let me pick out from the store earlier today. It's white with purple and it has long, flowing purple streamers hanging from the handlebars. I grew out of my last bike a while back, and mom finally gave in and let me get a new one._

_I begged to ride it as soon as we unloaded it from the car. I couldn't help it, I was too excited. So she's letting me ride up and down the street before dinner._

_I chance a glance over my shoulder to make sure she's still watching me. She is. I'm gonna show her a trick that I've been practicing. It's so cool._

_"Watch this, Mom!"_

_I attempt to stand up on the bar in between my seat and the handlebars, but my shoelace is caught around one of the pedals. I try to pull it free but lose control, running into some bushes. I'm stuck under my bike, tangled in the bushes, crying._

_"Bella! Are you okay, honey?" Mom sounds like she's running, but I can't see past the bushes._

_"Moooommmy!" I'm hysterical now. My ankle hurts… really bad._

_Suddenly, mom is beside me, untangling me from my bike, and lifting me into her arms. She's squeezing me, checking me over for injuries. But I just hold her tight, hoping that her affection helps quell the pain. _

_"What hurts, baby?" She's slowly grazing over different parts of my body as if that would help her determine my injuries. I tell her that my ankle hurts and she instantly sits me down on the sidewalk next to her to assess the damage._

_Feeling the pain again, I know something isn't right. She lifts my pant leg and gasps. I look down and see blood and what I'm guessing is a bone sticking out._

_"Bella, I'm gonna pick you up and carry you to the car. We need to get you to the hospital right now."_

_I nod and she quickly scoops me up. The whole time she's carrying me, I try to focus on her warmth. The pain is still there, but in her arms, I know that I'm going to be okay._

I come back to reality and quickly realize that I'm crying. Esme is still hugging me and I can feel her motherly love rolling off of her in waves. Ashamed of my reaction, I back away while swatting at my tears, apologizing for the unnecessary display.

"Oh honey, please don't be sorry. I cannot even imagine what you're going through, let alone what you've gone through to bring you here. Don't apologize for having a moment of weakness. It's okay to let it out. I don't mind at all."

I give her a weak smile and retrieve the packs of undergarments that she must have dropped when she went to hug me. I realize that the other packs contain not only socks but sports bras. I place them next to my backpack, along with the few items of clothing that fit me.

I try to steer away from the awkward encounter. "The other clothes in there didn't fit me. What would you like me to do with them?" I try to smile at her, but I'm pretty sure it comes out more of a grimace.

"You can just leave them in there. I'll get them when we're done here. Don't worry about it. Now, I wasn't able to find much else that would fit you, besides the packs of things I gave you. Did that jacket fit?"

I forgot about the jacket. I turn back behind the privacy screen, grabbing the jacket before walking back out to Esme. It's an old leather jacket, similar to what an old motorcycle rider would've worn. But it's smaller, more petite, like it must've belonged to a woman at one time. I pull it over my shoulders and it fits almost perfectly. And it seems really warm. Awesome!

I'm happy now, and my smile must display my emotions well, because Esme gives me a blinding smile. "It looks perfect on you, dear."

"Thank you." I feel better already.

Clapping her hands together she asks, "Is there anything else that you needed?"

I can't think of anything else until it hits me. "I really need a new blanket, the only one I've got is four years old and is about done. It doesn't really keep much warmth in anymore. Do you think you might have one?"

"Hold on just a minute, let me go see what I can find. You can have a seat. Or," her voice almost a whisper now, "if you want, you can go ahead and open the packs of things I gave you. If you need them, anyway."

I realize she's trying to prevent me from becoming embarrassed again by skirting around the actual names of the items. My cheeks still flush, but I nod to her, grateful for her understanding.

She walks away and I quickly grab one item from each pack before shoving the rest in my backpack. I dart back behind the screen, hurriedly undressing and redressing with all my new undergarments. My boobs are thankful for the support that they've been missing for the last few years.

I come out and sit in the only chair in this area, grabbing my backpack and removing my old blanket. Esme shows up moments later holding what looks to be a light tannish colored comforter and eyeing what's left of my old blanket. I stand abruptly in excitement, reaching for the new blanket, thanking her profusely. Today has already been one of the most productive days I've had in a really long time.

I move to start collecting my things when I hear Esme's quiet voice. "Bella, is there any way you could come back tomorrow? I know there'll be more stuff showing up in the morning and I would love for you to get a few more warm pieces of clothing." The way she says it sounds like she's skirting around something, but I choose to ignore it - it's not my business anyway.

"I'm more than happy with what I've got, but if it would make you feel better, I'll definitely stop by tomorrow. It's not like I have any other plans." I let out a small snort, still holding onto my sarcasm after all these years. I hope I didn't offend her.

"I'd love that. It really would ease my mind a little more if I knew that I gave you at least a few warm outfits, especially with this weather starting to cool down."

I give her a small nod and she tells me to come back in the early afternoon tomorrow.

As I'm packing up my newly acquired wardrobe, a hand sneaks its way into my line of sight. In this small delicate hand is a bottle of water and a $20 bill. My mouth opens and all that comes out is air.

This is the most money I've seen in a very long time. I look up at Esme with tears threatening to fall again before she looks at me with pleading eyes.

"Please don't argue with me and just take the money. Bella, I've never felt such a kindred spirit with someone before, with the exception of my husband and children. I wish I could do more for you, but I know that even if I offered you more, you probably wouldn't accept it. So please, at least take this. I know it's not much, but at least it should keep you taken care of until I see you again, tomorrow."

I don't know what possesses me, but I swiftly stand and hug her. Not wanting it to turn out like it did earlier, I release her, but not before giving her one quick squeeze.

"I cannot even begin to thank you enough. But thank you, thank you, thank you. A million times, thank you." I give her a smile bigger than I've given anyone in years and take the water bottle and money out of her hand. I slide the money in my front pocket and put the water bottle in my backpack.

"You can leave whatever you won't use anymore and I'll dispose of it all, if you'd like."

I give her a small nod, putting the straps of my backpack on.

"Please be careful out there, Bella. And I'll see you tomorrow." She gives me a small smile and I wave goodbye at her before turning to walk out.

After sliding through the people still in line, I make it out of the church and realize that I was in there a lot longer than expected.

I try to remember some of the shelters that I wanted to visit today, but only one comes to mind right now, The Bowery Mission over on Bowery just south of Houston Street. So I decide to start walking toward Broadway and then I'll just take that pretty much all the way down.

I make good time and arrive at the Bowery Mission about an hour later. It's starting to get dark, so I really hope that they have a bed available for me.

I make my way inside and can quickly tell that I probably won't be getting a bed tonight.

An older lady greets me and introduces herself as Pauline. "What can I help ya with, sweetie?" she asks me in a very southern accent.

"I was wondering if you had any bed availability tonight."

She smiles warmly before telling me that they're completely full for the night. I nod and start to turn to walk out when I hear her say, "I'm sorry, sugar, but if you'd like, we can get you on the list for a bed for tomorrow night?"

I try not to look too disappointed. After all, at least it's something. I nod and she asks me to wait for a second so she can go grab the paper for me to fill out.

She returns just moments later. "I need your name and birthdate, honey."

"Isabella Swan. And my birthday is nine, thirteen, ninety-four."

She writes it all down before looking up at me with a gentle smile. "Well, happy belated birthday, Isabella."

Confused, I ask her what today's date is.

"It's the sixteenth, hun." She gives me a sad smile and I nod my understanding.

I knew it was coming up soon because of the weather change, but when you're living my kind of lifestyle, it's quite difficult to keep track of dates.

I try to keep my mind from wandering, not allowing the emotions to surface again today. Birthdays were always such a fun experience with my mom.

Pauline rips a piece off the paper she was just writing on before handing it to me. It has a number with my name on it. It's usually the kind of thing they have you use to claim your room the following day.

"You can come back tomorrow early evening, Isabella. If you'd like, the kitchen is still open for dinner."

My stomach is still full from the lunch at the church so I kindly refuse and start to head out, after being sure to thank her.

Looks like I need to find a warmer spot to spend the night tonight.

After walking around searching, I find an alleyway with a few people already putting out their makeshift huts and beds. There's already a barrel with a fire started for warmth. So I quietly search for a spot for me to fit. An older lady, kinda dirty, but sweet-looking offers part of her cover for me. I quickly agree and climb under the coverage before grabbing my blanket out of my backpack. I lay it out over a small area for me to sleep on in a little bit.

I remove my bag of wet clothes and decide to hang them on the privacy bars covering the window just above where I'll be sleeping.

After maneuvering the clothes through the bars, I thank Julie, as she introduced herself, for the space and lie down.

I may not be in a warm shelter tonight, but at least I found some decent company. It could definitely be worse.

I close my eyes and whisper my love and thanks to my mother, in my head of course, for watching over me today and sending me Esme. There's no other way that I could've felt so connected to her without my mom's help. The hug that she gave me was the most emotional and motherly hug I've had since before my mom passed away.

She was a total treasure in my otherwise meager life.

Happy birthday to me indeed.

* * *

**End notes:**

**SSST: **Holy hell! So much has happened to Bella in this chap, I don't even know where to start! Dirty blonde? I wonder…is it our favorite blonde? And Esme, I always loved her as a character. I wonder who else will show up.

**TWL: **Well, I guess you'll just have to wait to find out. But in the meantime… guess away.

And yes, Esme will forever hold a special place in my heart. I just hope that I can do her character some justice in this story.

**SSST: **Ugh... no spoilers from you? Well how about this, Edward's gonna find some naughty ways to relax next chap! And we might hear from some familiar characters.

**TWL: **Again?! Gaaahhh! Well, at least someone is gettin some around here, I guess. I'm excited to hear what Edward gets into … or should I say, WHO he gets into next.

**SSST: **Meh, he tends to get himself into a lot of trouble, but when you have money like he does, it doesn't matter. But I promise I'll at least leak a little somethin somethin before the next chapter... as long as we see some mad love from these amazing readers!

**TWL: **YAY! Ya hear that readers?! Get to reviewing! Thank you for reading. Don't forget… there is a link to our Facebook group on my profile… click it so you can stay updated on all pic teasers and story snippets. We'll see you in two weeks.


	4. Chapter Four

**I cannot begin to thank you all enough for the outpouring of responses that we have received for this story thus far. This story means a lot to us and to see how some of our readers respond to it seriously means the absolute world to us. So again, thank you!**

**Thanks to the BEAUTIFUL SSST for this AWESOME chapter. I love working with you to make this story so incredible. You're doing a phenomenal job with Eddie-boy's POV- more than I could've ever imagined for him when I thought up this whole idea.**

**And of course, thank you to our amazing beta, the fantastically talented, Yummy! Once again, smoochie boochies, babe!**

**This chapter does have some slightly darker topics. You have officially been warned.**

**Alrighty, we'll see you down at the bottom. Enjoy!**

**Warning: This story is rated M for a reason. It will have some dark topics, full of angst. At different points, there will be graphic scenes containing violence, adult language, and rape.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters, those are all property of the super fabulous, Stephanie Meyer. I do, however, own the angst driven world that they are all residing in throughout this story.**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**EPOV**

Waking up the next morning is hell on my head, but my sleep was dreamless which is what I had hoped for. Somehow in my drunken haze last night, I managed to strip naked and crawl into my bed, which is amazing because most nights I don't even get my shoes off, let alone make it to my bed.

I reach over to my nightstand drawer and pull out an assortment of pills. I look through all the different bottles and pull out Hydromorphone. It's one of the strongest I've got, and it takes away all the pain for the time being. One of the perks about having money, any doctor with a prescription pad can be bought. Popping two 8 milligram tablets, I swallow them easily and get out of bed heading for my shower.

My bathroom is probably my favorite room in the condo. Not that my condo isn't every guy or even girl's dream, but the bathroom is just incredible. The heated marble floor soothes my aching feet before I make it into the shower to have six different showerheads pound the shit out of my back, massaging my sore muscles.

I turn it on, step in and sink to the bottom of the shower. I tilt my head up and let the water spill over me. Feeling the water saturating my hair, I run my hands through the strands, soaking up even more of the heat from the water. I grab my pricey shampoo, giving my hair a good wash, before just standing under the hot water, letting it melt away all of the bullshit. The water hitting my skin and rinsing me clean is almost heavenly, but then again it could be the slight lightheaded feeling I get when the pills kick in.

After I finish with my shower, I towel dry and glance in the mirror, wiping off the steam. It's ironic that my apartment is filled with all kinds of art deco mirrors, beautifully reflective art, and walls of windows, but I can't stand to see my own reflection. My eyes look dull and lifeless. I'm not sure if that's a result of the slight high I have from the pills or if people can see how truly dead I am inside. Physically speaking, women trip over themselves to get in my pants, but fucking them senseless is just a way to temporarily fill a void, to lose myself so I don't have to remember. I lost so much of myself the day Jake died.

_Tonight is our night to celebrate. I'm hanging with my friends, drinking a few Vitamin R's. After all, we are graduating from college soon and life can't get any better. I'm even engaged to the most wonderful and caring woman I have ever met._

_Jacob's my best friend, my wingman, and tonight he's playing designated driver. We've known each other since we were kids and though he lived on a reservation; he still attended the same high school as me. I got a lot of flak from some of the snobs in Brookhaven for hanging out with what they called the 'charity cases'. But the difference between the two is the guys on the res actually care about more than just their social connections and bank accounts._

_The bonfire is roaring and the mood is light, everyone's talking about graduation and my upcoming nuptials a few months after that._

"_Eddie, dude, how does it feel? You're graduating from Juilliard, you already have the New York Philharmonic planned out for after graduation, you've written major soundtracks to some pretty epic movies and you're marrying Vicky all in the next four months!" Jake sounds excited for me._

_Sam married Emily after high school and ended up getting a job at a local auto mechanics shop. He's expecting his first baby, a girl, in a few weeks. I was at the wedding which was in a small church. It was perfect as far as small tribal ceremonies go, filled with all the love and happiness of the entire tribe. He seems really happy with his life. But I guess my life in comparison may seem even crazier than marrying your high school sweetheart._

_I chuckle at the happiness that seems to be radiating off our group. Everyone seems to have their shit straight, happy with how things turned out._

_Jake and I hang a little longer with Sam, Quil, Embry, and Paul before we have to bounce. Jake has an early morning meeting. He's been searching for teaching jobs for the past two months and finally got a call back. He's going to be an amazing teacher. He's dedicated and smart and so good with kids. I think he honestly just wants to give back a little._

_He attends Columbia University, a college close to Juilliard, and we share an apartment in Manhattan._

_After making plans to meet up with the guys on graduation day, we decide it's time to head out. I climb my slightly-buzzed ass into his little car and we crank the stereo. I remember when my parents gave him this car for graduating high school. He was told to pick out whatever he wanted and somehow he found himself wandering from the new car section over to the used cars and fell in love with this little classic Volkswagen Rabbit. The car seems a lot smaller, now that we're two full grown men climbing into it, but it's his baby and he refuses to trade it in._

Highway to Hell_ comes through the speakers and we just start screaming the words, laughing at my slurred chorus line._

_The last thing I see is Jake's smiling face highlighted in bright white lights before everything goes dark. I must have passed out because I feel someone jostling me out of the car. I mumble, "Jake dude just a few more minutes," as I try to pull away from the embrace._

"_Sir, please don't move until we get the brace on," I hear, but it sounds far away. _The what? What brace?

_I open my eyes and pain shoots through my skull. Things are a bit blurry, but I can see that the windshield is shattered into tiny little pieces._

_As I look over to the driver's seat, I see Jake sitting back in his seat, eyes closed. Normally, I would say he looks peaceful, but I notice all the blood covering his face. I quickly shake off the pain and surpass the light-headed feeling and the cold to reach out for Jake._

"_Dude, wake up!" _What the hell happened?_ I'm trying to figure things out but my head feels woozy and my sight begins to blur. I look at the hand touching Jake and realize that it's covered in blood, but I don't feel any reason for there to be so much blood. My hearing starts to come back and I hear all the sounds of sirens and people speaking so quickly; they don't make any sense to me._

_I feel a slight tug to lift my chin and then something is being forced around my neck. I try and struggle but I can barely move now. I'm so tired and weak. I just want to sleep._

_The last thing I hear before I succumb to the darkness is three letters; D-O-A. _What's D-O-A? Wait… DOA! Who's DOA? Where's Jake?_ Then everything goes black._

I choke on the very thought of him pacing through my mind. I just can't afford to go there right now.

Looking in the mirror, I have a day's worth of scruff, and I know it has to go. Tonight, I need to exude charm and confidence when I step on the stage. When I finish my shave, I dress in a pair of jeans and a nice navy blue button down.

I start organizing my things. I already have my tux waiting for me in a changing room back at Fisher Hall. Grabbing all my stuff, I reach for my cell phone and see it's blinking. I grunt in disapproval, people know they're not supposed to bother me on performance days, so I know it has to be my family.

The first message is from Mom, wishing me good luck on tonight's performance. The family never attends the first show. They usually attend the second, so when we have the wrap up party, they can do all their high society crap.

The second voicemail is from my brother-in-law Jasper, his message mirroring Mom's and I begin to realize they were probably all asked to call me. Maybe they're starting to realize how much of a lost cause I am and they'll finally move on.

I'm surprised when the third message begins and I hear Mom's voice again. "Edward honey, I know you have a big night tonight and I know its last minute, but I have a huge favor and I need you to call me right away."

That message was about 3 hours ago when I was sound asleep. God, that woman never rests. She's always been the first to rise in the morning and one of the last ones to go to bed.

Fourth message: "Edward, okay, I know you probably need to sleep in a little, but honey, it's almost 11am." She sounds exasperated and I have to chuckle. She still treats me like a teenager.

Just as I'm about to go to the next message, my phone vibrates for a brief second in my hand and before I can hit ignore, my stupid phone accidentally answers itself. I must've brushed the answer button with my finger. Goddammit, I'm starting to really hate these touchscreen phones.

"Hello? Hello? Edward, are you there?" I sigh and answer, "Yes Mom, I'm here. How're you this morning?"

I can almost hear the smile in her voice. It's been a few weeks since I last spoke with her, and I know she's going to bug me to come for Sunday dinner, but those are just awkward with the happy couples and successful lives and their 'let's make Edward happy and set him up' bullshit.

"Oh honey, I'm so glad I got a hold of you. Peter is sick and Alice has to stay at home with him. You know how much she worries." I can't help the smile that graces my face, letting out a small snort. If that's not the pot calling the kettle black…

She continues with barely any pause, but I'm sure she heard the sound I made and is probably smiling like the Cheshire cat right now.

"She was supposed to bring me some stuff for the church and she just can't leave Peter with a nanny when he's got a fever. Would you mind picking it up for me? The church isn't too far from the Hall. Do you think you could drop it off before your sound check this afternoon? It would mean so much to me and I haven't seen you in so long. I miss that handsome face of yours."

When she starts to go all 'I miss you', I feel a slight pang of guilt; I don't want to cause my family any pain, I just wish they would let me drown in my pit of darkness. But I know they never will. No matter how much I push them away, they'll always pull me in and hold on tightly.

"Mom, I can't, really. Today's the big day and with all the changes made, we really need this time to make sure everyone is set up right."

Normally, when I mention anything that has to do with my music, she lets it go without an argument, but today seems to be a bit different, she's not taking no for an answer. It must be serious.

"Edward, you have done so many shows by now and if I know better, you were probably just there yesterday, setting up and getting everything situated. I promise I won't take up much of your time. It'll just be a quick grab, drop, and go." How can I argue with that? The woman always seems to find a way to pull me in, even when I have a show.

"Sure mom. I have to grab a few things first then I'll head over to Alice's in about five minutes. Tell her to have everything ready, because I can't risk getting sick tonight." That should work. Two birds, one stone and all that. Say hi to my sister, hug and kiss my mom, and I should be good to go AWOL for another few weeks.

"Perfect, honey! Drive safe. See you soon." I say my goodbyes and switch keys. I planned to take the Vanquish to the theater tonight, but I'll need more storage space, so I grab the keys to my Volvo S60 Polestar.

The drive doesn't take too long. I have my travel bag in the front seat so I can fold down the back seats. Mom texts me again, thanking me for helping her out and apologizing for throwing this on me last minute. I pull up into Jasper's vacant spot in the parking garage right next to my sister's canary yellow XC90 Supercharged V8 Volvo.

When she found out she was pregnant, she traded in her sweet sports convertible for the Mommy-mobile. I think the reason she picked out that model above all others was for its name. Supercharged describes her to a tee.

I barely have a chance to turn the engine off and step out of the car before I'm attacked by my mini me. My sister and I have the same face but where my hair turned out copper, hers is raven-black and today, she has it curled out in some kind of hip mom look or something. I can feel the energy vibrating through her body as she hugs me tightly.

"Hey there, Flash, I hear you have a package for me?" I ask, hoping she'll let me get to the point and get out of here. "Well hello to you too, Mr. Invisible. Are you excited for tonight? This is your last show for a while, right?"

The Philharmonic will be going on break for a month, after traveling across all of North America for the past three months. I'll definitely enjoy that time to get away to be free and as fucked up as I want to be. I know most of the people who also play appreciate the down time. They go see family, go on vacations, and just waste their time doing whatever.

"Yup, last show and then who knows? Maybe I'll just do some traveling or something." Her smile falters slightly at my admission. I know she had hoped for a family get together, but I'll do anything in my power to avoid doing that.

"Well dear brother, maybe the whole family will just have to travel with you if we want to spend any time with you." She smiles as my face goes slack because I know she's not kidding. She would have the whole family travel with me wherever I went, if it was up to her. That is after all, how they all moved out here to New York City.

"Well, we shall see. Now about those boxes..."

She holds up her hands and presses her key fob. As the trunk opens, I see a medium-sized box and five large Burlington bags. "I thought I was just picking up a few used items for some bums at the church. What did you do? Buy out the whole damn store?" She gives me a slightly exasperated look and I know if I don't fix this, she'll go off on some long ass rant about ethics and humility and blah, blah, blah. Before she says anything I say, "I'm sorry. I know your heart is in the right place, and I'm sure those less fortunate will appreciate all your heartfelt donations."

That seems to appease her as her smile grows while she hugs me again quickly and kisses me on the cheek. Before she pulls away, she whispers, "I miss you, Edward," in my ear. I try not to show the pain her words cause me, because I don't want to be missed. No one should feel that way about me. They should just let me go and live their own lives.

I wrap her up in my arms for one last hug before releasing her and grabbing the items from the trunk. Once I get everything situated in my car, Alice mentions she has one more forgotten bag in the house. I try not to get irritated with her, but I'm on a time crunch. We step off the elevator, walking up to the door when it opens and suddenly Peter is standing there wearing some kind of long john pajamas with little super heroes on them. "Mommy, I don't feel so good," he mumbles out in a raspy voice.

"Hey there, little guy. I hear you're feeling sick. I hope you get better real soon." He smiles a toothy little grin and I see a missing front tooth; I wonder when that happened. I quickly shake it off as Alice goes to hug her little boy. She whispers something in his ear and he smiles and wanders back into the apartment. Alice runs in after him but quickly returns, handing me the extra bag.

"So Sunday dinner at Mom and Dad's?"

She looks at me waiting for my answer. I don't want to disappoint her so I try to placate her, "We'll see! I'll call you later." She knows I won't call her, so she gives me a half-hearted smile and closes the door as I head off to the church. I know Al must be worried about her son if she let me off so easily.

It only takes me twenty-five minutes to get from her apartment to the church, and I'm lucky there's a spot right out front. I pull up and shoot a quick text to my mom letting her know I'm here. A few moments later she's walking out the church door with another lady who I should remember the name of, but don't. I pop the trunk and get out of the car. I may be an ass to everyone else, but this is my mom after all, so I hug her in greeting. I open the back door and the lady takes the first 3 bags I hand to her and my mom takes the next two. She looks dwarfed by the large bags but she carries them as if they were weightless. I grab the box, closing the trunk and locking the car before setting the alarm.

Carrying the box in for her and taking it through the entrance, I get a little lost and can't seem to find my mom. Just my fucking luck! I walk into a big room filled with a few tables and see what looks to be blankets, sleeping bags, and tents sitting on the floor.

Setting the big box down by some curtains in the direction I am pretty sure my mom went off in, I wait, not quite sure what to do and not willing to just leave her box anywhere and run. I open it to see what's inside and it's filled with a bunch of Alice's old clothing. Some stuff I've never seen but there's a long sleeved sweater that I remember her wearing back in high school. That's my sister, the clothing pack rat. After realizing the package isn't very valuable, I close it up and leave it so I can walk around.

It's been so long since I've been in a church. The last time was, well, Jacob's funeral. Giving my head a little shake I wander off, finding the sanctuary. The stained glass looks very old but classic and elegant in the way you would see some old churches in Italy. The pews are worn from the many people who have found their solace in them. I sit in one of the back rows and look up at the painted ceiling. It's blue with constellations of stars painted across. I can't help but stare. It seems a bit overwhelming, but fitting for its audience. I love the emptiness of the space. I would consider it kind of peaceful if it wasn't for the memories it tries to invoke.

I reach over and pick up one of the hymnals from the bench next to me, rubbing my fingers across the worn leather and the embossed letters of "BIBLE." I'm just about to stand and leave when a movement on stage right catches my attention. It's probably the priest or one of his parishioners, but then I hear the sound of a piano key echoing off the walls. This room has amazing acoustics. Then I hear another note; it sounds like someone is fiddling with the church's piano. It could be anyone, but the keys that soon follow are played in a beautiful crescendo, I can't help but stay and listen.

I soon hear the sounds of Prelude No. 4 in F Major by Robert D. Vandall. A song I've played many times before. This person is playing it flawlessly. It was first taught to me by an amazingly talented pianist when I was looking into schools. It's not an easy piece and I would love to see who's playing but I can't from this seat. I go to move forward to find a place to get a better view, but when I do, the Bible slips off my lap, hitting the ground with a huge slap that echoes off the walls. The music abruptly ceases and I hear the bench of the piano slide on the floor. I soon see a beautiful brunette woman standing up, looking scared and nervous. She's twiddling her fingers in front of her, looking at me like a deer caught in the headlights. She looks as though she's about to say something when I hear my mother call out for me.

"Edward, are you in here?" I turn in the direction of her voice reluctantly, just in time to see her walk through the same way I entered. "There you are. I thought you left already, but your car was still out front. Thank you for everything. You even managed to drop the box in the right place!" She smiles politely. She looks from me to the girl in the front of the room. "Oh Bella, I'm glad you're still here," she says and the name Bella echoes through my mind like the tones of the piano off the walls.

"Yeah mom, I have to go. I'm gonna be late," I say, needing to find an exit before she can do or say anything else. With a quick kiss to her cheek, I walk the direction I came in with a sense of urgency. It feels almost like running away, but I guess I am. I don't ever notice when a woman's beautiful, I notice when she's sexy or fuckable, but never beautiful. So what's so different about this one?

After arriving at the Hall, I realize I'm not as early as I would have liked, and there are many other musicians scattered around. I quickly hurry off to my changing area and switch out of my jeans and button down and into my tux and my buffed chloroforms. I get a quick glass of water and make my way toward the stage. A few words with the composer and everyone is readying their instruments. The piano is set up on an elevated stage to the left of the orchestra and we are five minutes to _curtains up_.

When the curtain rises, there's a small round of applause that seems blurred as I lose myself in the music. I play through tonight's compositions like the robot that I've become, not feeling anything. I'm ready for this to be over so I can go have some fun… or as much fun as I can really let myself have at this point. We finish up the set with Piano Concerto in C Major by Ralph Vaughan Williams and my mind is conjuring up images of the brunette from the church. Once we're finished and everyone is scattered around chatting, I disappear again, off to my changing room to get out of my monkey suit and back into my casual wear.

I quickly pull out my cell and dial J. My mind has run rampant today with too many unwanted thoughts and I feel a little out of control. Being with J always helps me find my center.

Fate apparently had a plan for tonight because as luck found me, J needs an assistant with her class. It would be beneficial for both of us. Tonight's lesson will give me what I need and J the specimen needed to keep the lessons on track.

Once I arrive at the bar, I'm quickly escorted downstairs by the bouncer, Felix. I can tell he was on lock-down because he didn't utter a single word the entire time we walked together which suited me just fine. I wasn't in much of a chatty mood.

Once we pass the classroom which is just a large room with chairs and small coffee tables surrounding a small stage in the center, we enter J's private room. She's already dressed in her red leather corset dress, with her very expensive breasts barely concealed by the fabric. It's good to see her. With all the traveling, it's been awhile and aside from Felix who is kneeling in front of his mistress, we have no preamble with our relationship. She smiles brightly before wrapping me up in her arms.

When I first moved into the city after the accident, I was a wreck. I found out J had watched me for three hours at her bar before she confronted me. By then, I was so drunk, I could barely stand. I had ended things with my fiancée and found no joy in living. Back then, I guess I was a talkative drinker and found myself spilling my guts to J's brother, Alec, the bartender. Alec told J everything and between the two of them, I was escorted upstairs to a back office. There was a plush couch pushed up against one wall, directly in front of an ornate desk with a red velvet chair where J ended up spending the night while I slept it off on her couch.

The next morning I awoke on her couch, confused and hung over. My head was throbbing, but all I wanted to do was consume more and fall back into my dreamless stupor. She wouldn't allow that though. She handed me a few Tylenol and a couple of bottles of water and started to prattle on about needs, desires, control, and reawakening. The one question she asked that nearly knocked me off the couch was if Jacob was here right now, would this be how he would want me to spend my life. I crumbled and she didn't even comfort me or offer me any counsel. She did, however, tell me there was a way I could get control back. Before I could do that though, I needed to let go of all control and trust in her to help me. At first I thought she was some kind of counselor and she did reveal to me that she had a degree in Psychology, but she wasn't your normal therapist.

She was a dominatrix.

She was a teacher of many things. She taught me how to control my vices and desires and not let them control me. She explained to me how some of the chronic pain I suffered due to the car accident was a lot more mental. Though there was still some damage, I was functional when I allowed myself to be. She trained me as her Sub and eventually helped me vent a lot of my darkness into more creative ways. In doing all that, she brought me back to my piano.

After a while, I started to want more and not with her. She had her rules and I had my desires. She trained me to become a Dom, but it wasn't a lifestyle I wanted to live. However, it did teach me control.

J and I had become good friends. She was the only person who understood me and truly knew everything I went through that first year. Even though we weren't together, every once in a while I assisted with classes and she kept me legal in my vices.

When she releases me from the hug, she looks into my eyes. Sometimes I swear this woman can see straight through me. I know she wants to ask, but with a quick shake of my head, her smile fades and she accepts my refusal without questions.

"It's been too long," she coos, and I know our game is about to begin. I smile but don't say a word, as tonight, I am her example. I will be her training subject and we'll be performing in front of her class. Two shows in one day for me; one of which I was aimlessly following my basic instinct and now this show, I would need to focus and find my control or be made a fool of.

"I need you to strip down completely before you enter the classroom. Please enter in Sub mode. The students will be looking to you as an example in control and also a lesson in release," she states purposefully. I feel my cock twitch in my jeans, rising to the voice of Mistress J. My body hums for release; the excitement of being on display in front of so many people is euphoric. She exits the back room and her voice demanded control as she spoke with the people in the other room, explaining tonight's lesson and giving them the 'learn with your eyes not with your hands' speech… aka do not masturbate during class.

I chuckle as I undress. So many people didn't understand that rule and many Doms have had to be excused from class with their sub for failure to comply. When I'm fully naked, I put everything on the chair in the room and wait for my introduction.

I love the little double entendre name she gave me and I get a little thrill out of being introduced as Mister E. I walk in keeping my eyes downcast on the floor, dropping to my knees at the edge of the stage with my arms clasped behind me, as per the norm in a teaching atmosphere. I can feel the eyes of everyone in the room burning into my skin, the labored breaths of those enjoying the view of my naked form and hard cock on display.

"Mister E, come to me and sit your ass in the wooden seat." I do as I'm told, having performed this exact lesson a few times for different students. Once seated, I keep my head down and focus on her every word.

"Class, tonight's lesson will be to reward good sub behavior and for the sub to maintain control over their release. This lesson works both ways whether you are a female or male, sub or Dom." She grabs two sets of cuffs; one set for the wrists, and the other for the ankles. J bounds both my wrists behind the chair which arches me outwards. If I was a woman, my breasts and genitals would be put on full display in the worship seat. My sack is tight and my cock is hard and the seat gives her full access to both. The seat has a cradle on the bottom for the head of whoever is running the session. It can be used for pleasure or pain, but tonight I'm on the receiving end of pleasure.

I sit staged as she goes on to describe the many uses of the seat, the many rewards and punishments. It's a display in control alone that I don't come like a teenage boy when she discusses some of the examples. She then addresses me, "Mister E, you are to remain silent until otherwise told. You are to come only when I say you can. Do you understand?" I remain silent. This is a test and many of the newbies grumble at my lack of response, but this is why they are here, to learn.

I can feel the smile in Mistress J's voice as she speaks. "You may respond, Mister E. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," I say confidently.

"Very good! Now, do you know your safe word?" she asks.

Knowing that she already gave permission to speak during this time, I answer, "Yes, Mistress." I hear the heels of her knee high boots clicking closer towards me, yet I remain still, head bowed. She sinks to her knees as her hand strokes and pulls my hard cock. It all seems very clinical as she describes what needs to be met and what can be done with this position. She also explains the variances if the roles are reversed with a female sitting bound to the chair. She removes her hand from my length, pulling and twisting my sack and massaging my balls with such precision, a bead of cum leaks from the head of my dick. She releases her hands from me completely, and I almost weep loudly at the loss of contact.

I breathe heavily through my nose and out my mouth, trying to maintain control. I so want her to finish and let me have my release, but this is a lesson and now that my body has responded, she must explain how to continue. I tune out her lesson and try to remain in control, but without the distraction, my brain tries to bring up situations to help alleviate the lack of touch my body craves.

J knows I'm here for a reason, and she tries to keep her tutelage to a minimum, but I'm rewarded when her tongue flicks out across the top of my swollen head and she laps up the pre-cum like a kitten. She's doing this to show the class that although she controls the pleasure, it's the sub's desire to please their Dom that keeps them from coming.

After some whispered words of understanding from the class, she speaks to me and I tune back into her words when my nickname is addressed. "Mister E, I give you permission to speak. Since you have been such a well behaved boy, I will soon give you your release. But you're not granted that just yet." This is another part of her lesson; the class needs to know I am enjoying what is being done and granting me permission to speak isn't as open as you would expect. When you're a sub, you may speak, but you're still limited. You can't make demands, you can't show lack of respect, and most importantly you can't come; all more examples in control.

Once I acknowledge her with a "Yes, mistress," she places her hand around the base of my cock and pulls it to her lips. I moan as her tongue twirls around the tip of my length, her movements an over-exaggeration so the class can see a lot of what is happening. A few open moans from the students mean they, too, are fighting their own arousal. My build-up growing stronger, I manage to moan and groan out a few "Thank you, Mistress's." Her other hand grasps my sack as she massages the tense skin.

I fight harder and harder to remain in control. No expletives are allowed to leave my mouth; I know how she would punish me - with an end scene and no release in sight. She knows I'm close to coming, as I feel the tip of my dick slide down the back of her throat. J has no gag reflex, but she swallows my cock with a little difficulty due to my size and length. She covers well, though, so the class is none the wiser. I feel her moan around me as the need to release into her throat tries to overtake me. Before I can make such a huge mistake, she releases me.

Pure hell is all that runs through my mind. I want to come beyond anything else. No other need surpasses that. It's what I need, and it's a miracle that I control myself. She helps me to find that lost control by refusing me what I want when I want it. Instead I'll only get what I need when I deserve it. She explains to the class how even as the Dom, she finds desire in pleasing me as well as being pleased by me.

Once everyone seems to understand, she looks to me and I can barely see through my hair as it's matted with sweat. She smiles and says, "Mister E, I give you permission to come, but you will remain silent." There's no question, no need to respond. What she's doing is taking away what last bit of control she could give me in the scene.

Without another word she starts again, I'm so close. Words form on the tip of my tongue, but I bite them back. Moans and grunts in the back of my throat never leave my lips and her mouth sinks down on me once again. The walls of her mouth remove any air as she becomes a vacuum, sealed tight along my length; it's almost painful. Her hand pulls at my sack with no tenderness. The pain is comforting. This is power and it's all hers. All I have is my voice and I can't use it. Being strapped in the chair as she works me over with her mouth, I lift my head to the sky, squeezing my eyes shut and letting go of any control I thought I had. In a euphoric moment met in nothing but silence, I come hard. A small grunt leaves my lips. My muscles slowly slackening and the release of a small groan is the class's confirmation that I have finally reached my climax and the Mistress's job is done. She swallows my seed and licks me clean.

I'm in my euphoria stage as she slowly unbinds my ankles, rubbing the marks left there as my body strains against the shackles of my bondage. She then releases my arms and a new pain is renewed in me from the position I was in. I slump forward, basking in the burn throughout my body. It's like hitting the ground running, as the floating feeling wears off and I'm once again in my body, alert and awake from the burn.

J finishes her class and calls for a fifteen minute break. She escorts me to the backroom where Felix is still bent in his position, awaiting his Mistress's return. I know from experience, sitting in that position for so long can be extremely painful, but if I know J, her needs will soon be met by her very submissive and very willing partner.

I begin to dress, all signs of her being in control gone. I was her puppet for the class but once her need for me is done and my need for her is met, we're just Edward and Jane.

Once I'm dressed, she hugs me and we make plans to meet up later on in the week to talk. Basically, she's letting me know that although I didn't want to talk about it earlier, I would soon have no choice. Like I said, she's one of the few people I still consider a friend, and I can't deny her the desire she has to be just that. I nod, still feeling a little lightheaded from the scene.

I leave to head home after kissing her on the cheek and waving goodbye. It's late and I crave the comfort of my bed. Without any other thought, I drive home and collapse, a spent heap into the pillows where sleep claims me.

* * *

**End notes:**

**TWL:** Wow SSST! I don't even know where to begin. How bout I first wipe the drool off of my chin. Who knew our dominating Eddie-boy could be such a good submissive?!

**SSST:** I know it's long and filled with so much to take in. I wonder how everyone feels after that flashback. I hope everyone now sees that he's not a complete ass; he's just suffering in silence.

**TWL:** I'm sure they will understand a little better now. Poor guy - to go through all that just to help gain a little control back in his life? You did a great job, allowing us into his crazy and sad head.

So… he saw Bella and can't get her out of his head now? Hmmm… I can't wait to see where this goes from here.

**SSST:** Yes! He saw Bella and a few other characters and we even hinted at a few unknown characters… I wonder who that might be.

OK readers, here's the part where you tell us what you think and give us all your love, hate or just kinda like. Also, be sure to seek shelter at The Wanderer's Refuge on Facebook (which can be found on TWL's FFnet profile, by clicking her name at the top of this page). We give picture teasers on Wednesdays and a small chapter teaser the Thursday before update.

I can't wait to read Bella's POV in two weeks. I wonder what she will think of seeing Edward again. *TTFN*

**TWL:** Well I guess you're just gonna have to wait, huh?!

See y'all in two weeks! Remember, reviews make us happy… and they're what keep us writing.

*waves goodbye*


	5. Chapter Five

**OMG guys! Y'all are seriously UH-MAZING! SSST and I have both done our fair share of squealing these past two weeks. Your reviews have us intoxicated and flying high. Thank you so much!**

**Thank you to Cared Cullen and the stellar ladies at The Lemonade Stand for rec'in Affettuoso! You girls rock. HARD!**

**Thank you to the BEE-YOO-TEE-FUL SSST for that fantastical smutty goodness in that last chapter. Anyone else need to change their panties? No?! Ohhh-kay… awkward. Anyway, thank you SSST for letting us delve a little deeper into Eddie-boy's psyche.**

**A GINORMOUS thank you to our phenomenally talented beta, Yummy! I should pay you for all the work that you have to do with our writing. Maybe I will… with some yummy photos of your Cabana boy. Smoochie boochies, babe!**

**See y'all down at the bottom.**

**Warning: This story is rated M for a reason. It will have some dark topics, full of angst. At different points, there will be graphic scenes containing violence, adult language, and rape.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters, those are all property of the super fabulous, Stephanie Meyer. I do, however, own the angst driven world that they are all residing in throughout this story.**

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**BPOV**

I toss and turn all night. I can't help sensing that something's going to happen. You know when you get that feeling of dread? That's what I've been feeling periodically. It could just be because yesterday was one of the best days I've had in a long time, but I still can't shake this awful sensation.

I'm up and at it before the sun rises this morning. Might as well do something constructive since sleep failed me. I check my clothes that I hung on the bars of the window, and thank all that is holy; they're nice and dry… and still there. Laugh if you want, but there have been times that I've done something similar to dry my clothes and have awakened to find they've vanished. And God forbid anyone actually give me a legitimate answer as to where they may have gone. That was a long time ago. I've learned my lesson since then. Actually, I'm not really sure why I did that last night. I must've still been riding the high from the rest of the day that I had… I was lost in a happy place. Thankfully, last night, I was surrounded by decent people.

As I'm getting my belongings together, the old lady who offered me solace last night introduces herself. "The name's Tanya, but 'round here they call me Tenny Tan." She fully extends her arm in a motion to shake hands. I quickly oblige and introduce myself.

"I'm Isabella. Pleased to meet you. Thank you for offering me up a place to lay my head last night. It's greatly appreciated." I don't go any further. And I certainly don't volunteer my nickname or last name. She seems nice enough, but only a select few can call me Bella.

"Isabella… that's a purdy name. How old are ya, little one?" Yeah, she's definitely not from New York. _Purdy?_ Really?!

"I actually just turned nineteen… the other day." Why did I tell her my age? Not such a wise decision, Bella.

She gives me a toothless smile. Well, maybe not completely toothless, just missing the two, top, front teeth. I can't help but return it with a grin of my own.

"Well, happy late birthday, Sugar."

"Thank you." Curiosity gets the best of me, and I have to ask, "Where are you from? You're certainly not from around here." I hope I don't offend her with my presumptuous attitude, but with her accent and unusually generous demeanor for the rough streets of New York, I can't help myself.

"I'm from Tennessee, darlin' – born and bred. I lost everything I had not long after I was laid off 'bout a year and a half ago. Slowly worked my way here to New York City. I was hopin' I'd have better luck up here, but there are so many people here, dunno what I was thinkin'."

I stare at her for a moment, not understanding the openness that she's displaying. If there's one thing I've learned from living on the streets as long as I have, it's that keeping to yourself and minding your own business can honestly be the deciding factor between life and death. Remaining reserved and introverted is necessary to survive.

I realize I've been quiet for far too long and decide to go for mild aloofness. "Have you checked out some of the programs they have around here? There are a lot of shelters and whatnot in the area that have opportunities for people to find educational possibilities, jobs, and even places to live."

She gives me a tight-lipped smile. "I'm too old for those, honey. But a youngin' like yourself shoulda already used all of those perks. I'm sure you could really benefit from them."

Honestly, she's totally right. When I first began living on the streets, I was definitely interested in those programs, but the first time I spoke to someone about them, I made the mistake of telling them my real age. Not such a good idea, looking back. They tried to deem me a runaway, in which case, the government would get involved, and I would most likely be sent to a group or foster home. Neither of which are ideal, especially at my age. There are very few people interested or able to take in a teenager; too many teens out there have been in the system too long and many of them have issues - emotionally or physically - because of it.

It's been so long now that I truly haven't thought about my options since that first time. I should probably think about doing that again soon. I'll have to ask around and find out the best places for me to go.

I realize that I've been pondering a little too long and glance at 'Tenny Tan'. She's giving me her half-gummy grin.

"Yeah, I really could. I haven't thought about the programs for myself in a while. I'm gonna ask around today and see what I can find out. You wouldn't happen to know where I could start, would you?" I ask with a hopeful smile.

"Oh yeah, darlin'. Ya heard of Co'lition for the Homeless? I think that's what it's called. They have somethin' called the First Step Job Trainin' Program. That would probably be the best place to start."

I remember hearing that name on more than one occasion. I'm now determined to get some more information. After all, I'm nineteen now, and I refuse to be homeless forever.

"Thanks so much, Tanya, for everything. I really appreciate it."

"Oh, no problem, hun. And call me Tenny Tan! Maybe we'll see ya around. Stay safe out there, little one."

With all of my things packed and my new leather jacket wrapped around me, I give her a small wave and mutter, "Maybe. Thanks again!" I turn out of the alleyway and I'm quickly ensconced by the hustle and bustle of the New York streets.

It's breakfast time now and my stomach is yelling at me that I should've grabbed a sack dinner when I stopped at the Bowery Mission yesterday evening. I could've saved it and had something for breakfast this morning.

And then I remember the $20 bill from Esme, the angel, sitting deep in my pocket. I have a fleeting thought of the homemade donuts at Balthazar in SoHo and the Crepes Nutella from Buvette in the West Village. _Well, those days have passed, Bella._ Man, I can't wait until I can afford a breakfast like that again. The worst part is that those places are really reasonable to the normal New Yorker. My mom and I used to go to both of those restaurants all the time for breakfast.

I quickly put a halt to that train of thought. Today is going to be a great day. I get to see Esme this afternoon and then I get to sleep in a warm place with a bed tonight. It's been a while; I'm beyond excited for it.

I think I'll walk to one of the many markets and get some fruit for breakfast. I can probably find some of the less-than-fresh produce, so I can get it discounted.

I pop into one of the neighborhood "Mom and Pop" markets and head straight to the produce stands. It doesn't seem too busy for a Saturday morning, but maybe because of the time of year. My mom and I used to love checking out the different outdoor markets around this time. It sure is beautiful out right now.

I find some inexpensive oranges and apples, grabbing a couple of each. Walking over to the pastry section, I decide to grab a loaf of bread, going for the multi-grain so I can have a little more nutrition. As I'm paying, the guy at the register is eyeing me something fierce. I don't know whether it's a positive look or what, but it's making me very uncomfortable. I hand him the twenty dollar bill, grab my change and items and get the heck out of there.

I think I'm going to go sit in the park and enjoy my breakfast this morning. Central Park is always my favorite on a Saturday morning because of all the different kinds of people that work their way through. After stuffing the food that I purchased from the market in my bag, I meander over there.

Finding an empty bench, I settle down and take an orange and a slice of bread out of my backpack, slowly digging in. I love people watching… especially here in Central Park where the cultures are so diverse.

As I sit here, I think about the Angel Esme. She seemed like such a genuinely caring person. She was kind and warm and just overall a complete sweetheart. I don't really need more clothes, I can do with what I got yesterday, but the thought of seeing her again today is exciting. She was a little sunshine for me in my otherwise dark existence.

I take my time eating, watching the skateboarders roll by, the businessmen and women who seem too engrossed in their work even on a weekend, the musicians playing their different instruments through the park, and the simpletons – like me – who are just enjoying a beautiful morning in the park.

Once I finish my breakfast, I ask a passerby for the time. Hearing that it's almost nine, I know I need to get moving if I want to make it to the Women's HELP Shelter in Brooklyn without wasting the day away. I decide that's the best place to start in search of the information and opportunities that might be available.

I make my way over the Manhattan Bridge and down Flatbush Avenue, managing to get to the shelter in less than two hours. Score one for Bella!

I walk into the shelter and am immediately consumed with an overwhelming sadness. HELP is a shelter specifically for women who are victims in domestic violence or women who have been abused mentally, physically, or sexually. I know it's not a place I really belong, but I figured they would have some kind of information for me. Trying not to stare, I pass many women who look completely battered. I just want to give them all hugs and tell them that everything will be all right.

Fortunately, the first volunteer that I find knows about the Coalition for the Homeless, but says I'd be better off talking to Carmen, who won't be back until Monday at nine. I thank her for the referral and make mental plans to be back here at the start of the week.

Even though I made great time here, I don't want to test my limits, so I decide to suck it up and take the subway. I really don't want to spend all the money Esme gave me, but I don't want to chance missing her. Besides, it's only two dollars and fifty cents, right?

I head toward Liberty Station, a few minutes early for the 11:58am C Train. Yay! This must be my week, man. Everything seems to be working out so perfectly.

I get on the train and find a seat, but get that feeling of dread again. Things are going great. Please don't let anything mess it up.

I arrive in Washington Square Station, desperate for Percy's famous dollar-slice of pizza. I haven't had it in years. The friendly man behind the counter passes me a generous piece which I sprinkle with oregano, red pepper, and parmesan. It smells divine, and I savor the cheesy goodness with my first bite. Mmmm, even better than I remember.

I finish my slice and decide I should make my way over to the church to meet Esme. I take a meager sip from the bottle of water she gave me yesterday, not wanting to drink it all at once.

Once I get to the church, I realize I have no idea exactly where to find Esme, so I slip through a side door, figuring it couldn't hurt to start here.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I shyly flag down an elderly woman sitting at a table.

She looks surprised to see someone coming in this way. Oops! Maybe I should've come in through the front.

"Yes, can I help you with something?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you. I'm just looking for a volunteer that I met here yesterday. She told me to come back today. Her name is Esme?"

"Oh, yes! Are you Isabella?" She gives me a comforting, wide smile.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm sorry, dear. My name is Siobhan. Esme told me you would be stopping by. Can you wait here for just a minute? Let me go find her." She stands from the table and starts making her way toward the kitchen. "You can have a seat here if you want." She gestures to a chair across from where she was sitting.

"Sure. Thank you." I set my backpack on the floor next to the chair and sit down. I'm glad Esme filled her in a little bit. I was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"Bella! I'm so glad you could make it back." Esme comes walking in with Siobhan on her heels.

"Hi Esme! Yes, I was really looking forward to seeing you again." I smile shyly. My verbal filter fell out for a second. I hope she doesn't think I'm some bat-shit crazy, stalker girl.

"Oh honey, I was really looking forward to seeing you again, as well." She beams at me and I'm suddenly enclosed in warm arms. I can't contain the joy and comfort that I feel from the small action. I hug her back.

She pulls away slowly, "Well, the items that I was hoping to give you aren't here quite yet. Would you walk with me? We can go sit in the pews while we wait."

We head into the main section of the church, walking right up to the first pew and take a seat.

"I really am so glad that you were able to make it back, Bella. I wanted to ask you a couple questions, if that's alright with you." She looks genuinely nervous. Does she think I actually won't want to talk to her? That's crazy!

"No problem. What would you like to know?" I muster up my most honest smile and hope it's enough to calm her nerves.

She gives a small nod in assurance, "Well, first hun, I was wondering… how old are you? You look so young."

"As of a few days ago, I'm nineteen."

Her eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline and I would say that I totally surprised her. "As of a few days ago? You just had a birthday?"

"This may sound kinda stupid, but I didn't know what the date was until I went to get a shelter bed last night and had to give them my birthdate. The volunteer at the shelter told me the date and I realized that my birthday was four days ago. It's okay. I don't really feel like celebrating much these last few years anyhow." I am utterly embarrassed.

"Oh Bella, I'm so sorry. Well, happy belated birthday, love." She squeezes my hand and I grin, mumbling my thanks.

"Well, that answered a few questions that I had, actually. So, now, I have to ask, how long have you been homeless?"

"I've been living on the street for almost four years now. My mom passed away right after my fifteenth birthday and I've been on my own ever since." I never speak of this… to anyone.

Esme looks at me with sympathy and care. I don't like people to feel sorry for me. I hope that's not what's happening here.

"Oh my, dear! You've been on the street, on your own, since you were fifteen? My heavens! How could anyone let a young girl be on her own in such horrible living circumstances?" She's staring at me with watery eyes. _Oh, please don't cry._

"Well, it was just me and mom growing up. My dad was a police officer who died in the line of duty when Mom was still pregnant with me. They hadn't known each other long when I came along, but the way my mom described it, he was her one and only love. Anyway, my mom was an only child, and so was I. My grandparents died when I was younger. So there was no one else." _Don't cry, Bella. Don't cry._

I'm trying to keep the tears at bay, staring off toward the stained glass. But one look at Esme and I lose it. She has silent tears running down her cheeks, and I can't help but let the floodgates open.

"Oh, Bella. I cannot even begin to imagine the heartbreak. What a strong young woman you are to endure all of that on your own. I don't mean to be rude, but there are different options for a teenager who doesn't have anyone. I mean, for example, there are foster homes and adoption programs."

This is exactly why I try to stay away from conversations like these… no one understands.

"I'm sorry, Esme, pardon me for being blunt, but have you heard some of the stories of teenagers in the system? Most of them end up being treated worse in foster care than they would if they were living on the street like me. I had a friend in middle school that was in and out of the foster system. And she was beaten and abused by almost every foster family that she was placed with. And when she wasn't being pounded on, she was being completely neglected. I would share my lunch with her most days, and that would be the only food she would get all day. So, you understand my distaste for the system?!"

I can't help but feel disgusted… it happens every time I think of Tia and what she went through. She was one of my best friends growing up until she was taken out of state to go and live with a family, who, I hope, treated her better than any of the other families. We lost touch once she moved away.

Esme looks thoroughly apologetic. I didn't mean to make her feel bad and I immediately feel guilty.

"I'm sorry, Esme. It's just a really touchy subject for me. The past is in the past, though. I'm nineteen now, so no more worries of foster care and the system." I smile at her to let her know that it's water under the bridge.

"I'm so sorry, dear. I had no idea. I guess I've lived a rather sheltered life. I never really thought about the negative responses to older children in the system." She gives a watery smile and I squeeze her hand in reassurance.

"It really is alright. It's just a subject that I am very passionate about. But it's done with now."

"Esme, I'm sorry to interrupt, but would you mind helping us in the kitchen?" Siobhan comes from the same door we entered, looking completely contrite for having disturbed us.

Esme tenderly grips my hand before quickly releasing it to wipe her eyes. "It's no problem, Siobhan. I'll be there in just a second."

Siobhan looks between the two of us giving me a sad smile before turning and walking back out.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. Would you mind sitting here for a minute? I shouldn't be long." She stands up, looking torn.

"No problem, really. I'll be fine here," I ensure.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll be along shortly."

I'm trying to rein in my emotions now. Whatever brought me to open up so much to Esme, I have no idea. She's just so tenderhearted and authentic, I can't help but feel completely comfortable with her.

As I sit idly, waiting, I'm drawn to the piano. My fingers are twitching to run along the smooth black and whites. I take a quick look around and as soon as I see that no one is there, I slowly make my way toward it. Thankfully, it's off to the side, so I don't have to walk on the altar or anything. I've never been a religious girl, and I'm not very knowledgeable on how all that works.

I take a seat at the bench and lift the fallboard, admiring the beauty of the ivories. I haven't been this close to a piano since just after Mom died. I place my hands on the keys and I'm swiftly thrown back to another time, to that _last_ time. It was just after Mom's funeral and I was completely distraught and overcome with sadness. There were so many people offering their condolences in the main room, but I couldn't bring myself to stay and listen anymore. I ran to my mom's music room, sitting on the bench, crying.

My fingers are drawn like magnets to the keys, and I place my hands atop them. With another quick peek around, making sure I'm still alone, I press down and am instantly encased in the protection that the melody brings. Almost immediately after playing the first note, I play another. I love the tinkling sound that the keys make. It brings me back to a different time. I fiddle with a couple more notes before my hands take on a mind of their own, beginning an all too familiar journey. I play a section of _Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat Minor_, before moving onto the one piece that always brings me back to the last days; Robert D. Vandall's Prelude No. 4 in F Major. Mom used to play this for me when I was sad or upset. I'm flooded with the emotions that this song always evokes.

I'm lost in my own world when I suddenly hear a loud thump echo throughout the sanctuary, and I abruptly stop playing. I stand swiftly, worried that I've done something wrong, when I make eye contact with the same set of emerald eyes that I remember so vividly. There's quite a distance between us, but I couldn't mistake those eyes if my life depended on it. He probably doesn't even recognize me, what with me being clean and actually presentable now. _What a gorgeous specimen he is!_ I wring my hands in front of me, not knowing whether I should say something or make a quick dash._ Say something, Bella!_ At least give him the impression that you are a somewhat-intelligent human being. I decide to apologize, in case I disturbed a moment for him, when I hear Esme's angelic voice float through the air.

"Edward, are you in here?" The beautiful man with the crazy hair turns towards Esme. His name is Edward? That's sort of perfect. "There you are. I thought you left already, but your car was still out front. Thank you for everything. You even managed to drop the box in the right place!" She smiles at him, and I feel a slight pang of jealousy. She knows this man. She moves her eyes from the Greek God over to me, and I immediately feel guilty. "Oh Bella, I'm glad you're still here."

Should I not be? I'm quickly running through our conversation in my head to assure myself that I should still be here.

"Yeah mom, I have to go. I'm gonna be late." His voice is just as beautiful as he is. It's like lemon and honey; so smooth. _Oh my, this Adonis is Esme's SON? Wow!_ My mind is reeling with all of this new found information, as I watch him plant a hasty kiss to Esme's cheek before making a mad dash out of the church.

I quickly make my way down from where the piano sits and stride over to Esme.

"I hope I didn't disturb anyone with my playing," I say, motioning to the piano. "Was your son trying to get some private time?" I'm suddenly very nervous that maybe I was doing something wrong. Maybe Edward is a religious man and came in here to pray. Maybe that's why he flew out of here like a bat out of hell; maybe he was angry that I was disturbing his peaceful solace.

"Oh no, dear, you're fine. Edward was actually here to drop off the items that we've been waiting on. Wait, I'm sorry, did you say that you were playing the piano?" She's grinning from ear to ear. She looks like that cat who swallowed the canary, though. What is she hiding?

"Yes, I was playing when I heard a noise and looked out into the pews to see Edward. He looked like I may have been bothering him."

"I'm sure that's not it, honey. Edward is nothing if he's not a fan of music… especially the piano. If you were playing decently, which I'm sure you were, then there's no reason that Edward would've felt hindered for any reason. Anyway, let's go check out the things that he brought up here for us." She motions for me to follow her before heading out to the main room.

"I am sorry about Edward's abrupt departure. He has a concert tonight and was pressed for time to make it over to the Hall in time for set-up. He plays for the Philharmonic." She's beaming with pride. _The New York Philharmonic?!_

"Wow! That's really quite an accomplishment. He must be very talented." I smile warmly at her obvious joy.

"I'm sorry! Every so often, the proud mother in me pops out. Yes, he's quite an accomplished pianist. Anywho, let's see what we can find for you."

"Whoa, there sure are a lot of supplies. Is there always this much stuff in here?" My eyes must be as big as saucers because Esme gives a little giggle, nodding her head. I didn't notice all the supplies when we were in here earlier and it looks completely different than it did yesterday, without all the dividers… and people. It's great to see the support that the homeless have. I see tents, sleeping bags, clothes, blankets, and even pillows.

"Yes. Well, we like to always have this kind of stuff on hand. And having plenty of it is always nice. Sometimes, we run a little low, but we're collecting a lot for the winter months coming up. This winter is supposed to be a doozy." She heads on over to a box and some department store bags.

"Now, my daughter has been hanging onto some things that she hasn't worn or used in years. I think you're pretty close in size, so I would love for you to take what you can out of here. And… ah-ha… yes, she told me she had an old duffle bag that she wanted to be rid of and here it is. Maybe you can use it to hold more clothes and such?" Her expression would give the impression that she doesn't know whether I would be okay with the items she's offering.

I'm beaming at her. I would love to be able to carry more clothes, especially with winter coming up so quickly. The possibility for extra layers would definitely come in handy.

"That would actually be really amazing. I guess we'll see what actually fits and what doesn't." I make a move for the bags and she quickly starts removing items.

Most of the clothes that she's grabbing appear to be brand new. Or at least pretty close to new. _Was that a tag that she just ripped off of those pants?_ I really hope that no one went and purchased these clothes just for me.

There are so many winter clothes here, I'm excited to see all of the options. Options… wow, there's something I don't see every day. Psh… I haven't had 'options' in years. And here I am, getting to choose outfits and whatnot. Such a great feeling.

As she's removing items from the bags and box, she's separating them into piles and mumbling. I wonder if I should help her, or just let her do her thing.

"Can I help you, Esme?" I don't feel right just standing here watching her.

"Oh, sorry. Yes, you can start grabbing the pieces that you might want. I already took the liberty of setting aside some that I didn't think you'd be interested in." She's pointing to a pile of some very girly looking items that would be more appropriate during the spring or summer.

I decide to start weeding through the other pile. Most of it seems to be my size and it is all a lot more reasonable for the weather change. Pants and long-sleeve shirts, sweaters and even a nice jacket. It all looks to be in great condition.

"Where did you say these items came from? Most of it looks pretty new, if not worn at all."

Esme smiles sheepishly at me. "Oh, my daughter, Alice, has so many clothes. Most of the time, she owns more than she can even wear. She's probably only worn each of these once or twice. Or maybe not at all." She giggles as she finishes going through the bags.

The box seems to have blankets and things like that in it. Ah-ha! There's the duffle bag that she mentioned. Whoa, that looks brand new too!

She takes the items I selected for myself and places them neatly in the duffle. "Did you want to try any of these on before I put them all in here?"

"It's okay. Everything here looks like it will fit. And if it doesn't, I'll bring it back to you so that someone else can get some use out of it." I smirk at her, completely grateful for all of this.

"Okay. Well here, at least try this jacket on. It looks like it might be a bit warmer than the one that you got yesterday. And it couldn't hurt to have another jacket on hand, just in case." She grabs a dark, navy blue pea coat, making a move to put it on me.

I slip my hands through the arms and it fits perfectly. It's almost like it was made and purchased specifically for me. I chance a peek at Esme and she's got a Cheshire cat grin lighting up her face.

"I believe I saw something else that would go perfect with that… Ah, yes, here we are." She grabs a cream-colored knit scarf, with matching gloves and hat. "These should help you keep warm and toasty this winter." She wraps the scarf around my shoulders, placing the hat on my head while handing me the gloves to put on myself.

"How does that feel?" She's beaming, looking completely pleased with herself.

"This all feels really great, Esme! I just don't know how to thank you for everything. This all means more to me than I can even express." _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry._ I hold my tears at bay for the moment and chance a smile. I look down at myself and actually feel like a functioning member of society. I look normal in these clothes, not like the dirty, down and out vagrant that I am.

"Oh honey, your words and that smile are all the thanks I need. I'm just glad that we were able to find some more items for you. Hopefully, it will all help you this winter." She adjusts the hat on my head a little and ties the scarf in an attractive knot around my neck.

She looks like she wants to say something, but I guess she decides against it when she glances down at her watch. "Oh, look at the time. I have to get going. I promised Alice that I would stop by this evening to spend some time with my sick grandson, Peter. Do you mind if I walk you out?" She starts packing up the clothing that I didn't want. I reach down to help her when she gives me a look of admonishment.

"You don't worry about this stuff. Just get together the things that you're keeping and put it all in your new bag. I'll worry about this stuff."

I can't help the sarcastic, "Yes, ma'am," that pops out of my mouth, or the mock-salute that I give in her direction.

She giggles, turning back to finish packing the remaining unused items.

Once we're both finished, she turns to me, "I'll be right back, I need to go grab my jacket and purse. Do you mind waiting right here?"

"No problem. Should I just wait outside? Or…?"

"Don't be silly! I'll be right back. My belongings are in the office. It won't take me but a minute to grab them," she scoffs.

She scampers off to the other room only to return moments later, bundled up and ready to go.

"I told you I wouldn't be but a minute."

We leave the church and before turning to thank her again, she gently grabs my upper arm looking me dead in the eye. "Bella, if you need anything, please call me." She hands me a business card. "This is my cell phone number as well as my home phone number, so if there's anything, you do not hesitate to call me. Understand?"

She says it with such force, that she doesn't really give me any room to argue with her. "Yes, I will, Esme. Thank you again for everything. I wish I could express my gratitude to you." There are not enough words in the English dictionary to explain to her how thankful I am for all that she's done for me, both yesterday and today.

I can't contain myself and reach out to her for a hug. There's no time to feel ashamed for my actions because she's grabbing me in a warm, affectionate embrace. Gah! The emotions that this woman ignites in me… I miss my mom so much.

She slowly pulls away, a tender smile on her lips. She reaches into her purse, pulling out some cash. _Oh no! I cannot take any more money from her!_

Before she even says anything, I'm shaking my head and pushing her hand away with mine.

"Bella, please take this. I don't know if you've used any of the money I gave you yesterday, or all of it for that matter, but I would really love if you would accept this. It's not a whole lot." She's pushing it toward me again.

How can I accept even more from this amazingly sweet woman? She's already done so much. I think she can see the emotions warring on my face.

"Bella, if you can't use it, then just give it to some other deserving person that you know. But please, just take it. Like I said yesterday, I wish there was more that I could do for you, but I don't think you would easily accept anything more than this. Even now, it's becoming a struggle to get you to welcome this little bit."

At that statement, I feel utterly ungrateful. Here is this angelic woman, offering up her Saturday afternoon, her daughter's belongings, and her money, and I am acting like a thankless child.

I reach out to accept the money, seeing another twenty dollar bill.

"Good. And please remember, if you need anything, don't hesitate. Call Collect if you need to. I feel awful leaving you right now." She gently clasps her other hand around my forearm, before releasing me altogether.

"Thank you again. So much, Esme!" I smile tenderly at her with a slight nod of my head to assure her that I accept all that she's given me.

I give her a small wave, turning to walk away before sliding the twenty into my pants where it joins the remaining cash from yesterday's generosity.

I cannot believe the heart of that woman. The feelings that she emotes in me are all too familiar, and I suddenly want to cry. I really miss my mom!

I head toward Bowery Mission, knowing a bed is waiting for me. When I arrive, Pauline smiles, recognition on her face.

"Hi Sugar! You're back! Great! Do you have your slip with you?" She grabs a clipboard off the table and takes a glimpse at it. "Isabella, right?"

After digging in my backpack, I find the slip, handing it to her. "Yes, ma'am. Isabella Swan. My birth date is September thirteenth, nineteen ninety-four."

She starts marking on the clipboard before looking up at me. Once she goes over the standard shelter rules, I get my bed assignment. I smile, thanking her, and find my bed with the intent to organize all of my new items.

I lay all of my new clothes on my bed and realize there's even more than I thought. I set the food that I acquired this morning off to the side before folding all of my clothes and placing them back in the bags. I conclude that the duffel will be for my clothes and food and then my backpack will be for my blankets.

After stashing everything away, leaving out my hygiene products and a clean outfit to wear - some sweats and a sweatshirt, I decide on a shower. Hopefully, since it's around dinner time, the showers won't be too busy.

I was right; there are only a couple women in the showers. So I throw my stuff in a locker, grabbing the provided key and all of my shower supplies and head into a stall.

Feeling totally vulnerable and uncomfortable, I shower quickly and change into my clean clothes, packing away the dirty ones in a grocery bag.

I grab all my stuff and head toward what I think is the kitchen, wanting to eat some dinner before trying to get some sleep.

I choose the first thing I see which happens to be some meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and corn, with a salad and a cup of milk. I also grab a bottle of water to stash in my bag for later.

I make quick work of the meal, not paying any mind to the people around me. I keep my head down and eyes focused on my tray. Once I finish my cup of milk, I head out of the kitchen, placing my trash in the garbage and tray on the counter. I'm back at my assigned bed before I know it.

I grab my toothbrush and small tube of toothpaste out of my bag, zipping everything up and putting my bag under my bed, and head into the bathroom.

As soon as I finish brushing my teeth, I go back to my bed and determine that even though it's still pretty early, I want to get in as much time in this bed as I can. I grab my blankets out of my bag and lay them across the bed, using a smaller one that Esme gave me today for a pillow.

I'm quickly in bed and under the covers, falling into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of crazy hair and probing green eyes.

I awake with a fright, to a gloomy, darkened room, but I can't shake the feeling I'm being watched. I take a look around and notice some people packing up their belongings. It must be Sunday. I collect all my things, placing it all in my bags before grabbing an outfit for the day, as well as some of my toiletries.

I take care of all my business, making sure to brush my teeth and hair, before gathering up my bags and heading toward the kitchen.

I get a tray full of eggs, bacon, sausage, and pancakes; not skimping on any of my breakfast favorites. I practically inhale my food and grab a proffered cup of coffee. Savoring the cup, I'm on my way, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. It's amazing what a good night's sleep in a real bed can do for a person.

As I'm walking down Houston, I hear the faint but distinct sound of a pipe organ. Suddenly realizing where I am, I make my way down to one of the many churches in the area. I've never been a religious person, didn't grow up in a religious household, but I was always taught to respect the music. The pipe organ has such a beautiful sound to it, heavenly really.

I head toward Shrine Church of St. Anthony of Padua off of Sullivan and Houston, pretty sure that's where the sound is coming from.

Looks like I'm right on time for one of the masses scheduled, so I slide into a back pew. Again, not being a religious person, I'm not there for the service, I'm just here to appreciate the music.

Mass seems to go on forever, but I'm rewarded with the celestial sounds of the pipe organ more than once. By the end of service, I feel exhilarated. I'm one of the first to exit the church and set out to go sit in Central Park again.

It takes me about an hour to get to the park and about another twenty minutes before I find a good place to sit and enjoy some lunch.

I'm pretty hungry now, so I take out one orange, one apple, and a slice of bread. I eat it all slowly, just enjoying the flavor and the day. It's overcast out, looks like it might rain a little later, but for now, it's beautiful.

Once I'm finished with my food, I decide to walk around a bit. I love to walk near Central Park Zoo, watching all the people and the animals. As I'm wandering, it starts to rain. And when I say rain, I mean torrential downpour. Gotta love it!

I quickly go in search of a place to stay for the night that might help keep me dry. As I'm passing an alleyway, I notice a stack of boxes thrown out, probably to be recycled. But I could really use one of those, especially if this is any indication of the weather for the night. I find a good one in the middle of the pile and make my way down the street.

One good thing about New York, nobody pays attention to a woman carrying bags on her back and a box as big as her body. I mind my own business and focus on my search.

It gets dark pretty quickly, and I decide on a decent looking alley I pass. Doesn't look like there's a lot of foot-traffic going through, so it seems like a good choice.

I make quick work of setting up the box so it's like a small house. It's dry inside, climbing in, I swiftly lay out my blankets.

I hate this time of day, being by myself, in this kind of weather. Idle hands are the devil's playground and all that. Usually, my mind wanders to a sad time. But tonight, my mind drifts back to the Greek God that I saw yesterday. I dreamt of him last night. Tonight, I picture him sitting at a Grand Steinway, one hand running through his hair, the other running smoothly over the ivories.

I didn't realize it, but I must've dozed off because I'm startled awake by a loud slurring voice and a banging on my shelter. I try to ignore it, keeping my eyes closed. Usually, if I ignore people, they'll go away. Unfortunately, this time, I think I might be wrong. I take a peek through one slitted eye and see a shadow of a man standing right outside the cardboard. I'm not sure what he's yelling, but he's banging hard on the top of my makeshift shelter.

Suddenly, I understand him. "Wake up, you pretty little tease, you!"

Surely, he can't be talking to me. I have no idea who this man is or what he's talking about.

"I'm sorry, I think you're mistaken." I try to remain calm, not wanting to further excite him.

"Oh no… I've had my eye on you. I saw you at the church the other day. You gotta remember me. We made eye contact… it was fate." He's slurring again, but I understood what he said.

And then all at once, the memory comes back to me. The scary man in the church two days ago. The icy cold, blue eyes… the greasy, long blonde hair… and now I'm terrified. I open my eyes when the banging stops, hoping he left after getting what he wanted by scaring me.

All of a sudden, the top of my cardboard box is ripped off, and I'm thrown against the brick wall behind me, hitting my head. Hard.

Everything starts to close in around me, my vision becoming less and less. I make out the smell of alcohol-drenched breath in my face, and hear a chilling voice whisper in my ear, "You don't remember who I am… you hurt my feelings. Now, I'm gonna teach you a lesson."

I know that this is the feeling of dread that I've had. This is it. There's no running away. I try to block out what's about to happen. I begin to beg and plead in repeated whispers, "Please stop! You don't want to do this! Please stop!"

He's ignoring me, but I don't stop with my pleas. I was always told that if I ever found myself in this type of situation, I had to be sure to make my desires known… you must express out loud that you don't want any part of this. He's holding me against the wall, not stopping. I chose a pretty isolated spot tonight, so there's no one around to stop him.

I close my eyes and let the darkness take me.

* * *

**End notes:**

**SSST:** Wow, oh wow… She hasn't even officially met Edward yet and it's not looking good. Everyone's going to be worried!

**TWL:** *runs and hides* Please don't be worried. This is where Bella's story needs to go for what I have planned for her future. I promise, everything will work out in the end… it just might take some jumping over hurdles to get there.

**SSST:** Okay, but knowing where you're going is just wow and not knowing where you're going is a nail-biter, BUT our favorite fans need to help you get there… What do you say readers?

**TWL:** *on knees begging* Please don't leave us. I promise we will all get through this together. Don't forget to review and let us know your thoughts so we can all get through this adventure together. I PROMISE, it will be TOTALLY worth it.

**SSST: **Yes and join us over on Facebook at The Wanderer's Refuge (the link is on TWL's profile) to show your support! I am supporting my amazing co-author, TwiWifeLife, as best I can but she will need every single one of you to back her up with the upcoming chapters! Again, thank you for all the love; EPOV got so many reviews, my head was spinning! CU Later

**TWL:** Next up, Eddie-boy's PoV! And just a heads up, next BPoV will be a rough one. Until next time… see y'all in two weeks.  
*waves goodbye*


	6. Chapter Six

**The outpouring of responses that we have been getting with this story is so touching. And no, I don't mean in that way. Get your heads outta the gutter.**

**Anyway, we have been getting many responses from worried readers, some more worried than others and I just want to reiterate how vitally IMPORTANT it is to read the Author Notes. This story is not all peaches and cream, HOWEVER, there will be an HEA. Just bear with us as we get through the next couple chapters. To all of our supporters, HUGE thanks! We love each and every one of you!**

**Can't go on without shouting out a few thanks!**

**Thank you, SSST, once again, for giving our Eddie-boy his voice. It's creepy how in sync we are with where these characters are going… and everything else in our lives. Thank you for all of your support, especially lately!**

**And once again, a GINORMOUS, whale penis size thanks to our beautiful beta, Yummy! Seriously… have I told you lately, that I love you? Ah… wait… sorry, Spotify has been playing me some amazing songs tonight. Anyway, I love your brilliance, even when you're playing the Comma Nazi. Thank you! And thank you SO much for all of your support. You're one amazing Majorette! Smoochie boochies, babe!**

**See y'all down at the bottom for some VERY important notes. Seriously, you do NOT wanna miss it!**

**WARNING: This chapter has some darker themes. It is not too graphic, but there are a few medical terms that accompany a sexual assault victim.**

**This story will have some dark topics, full of angst. At different points, there will be graphic scenes containing violence, adult language, and rape.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters, those are all property of the super fabulous, Stephanie Meyer. SSST and I do, however, own the angst driven world that they are all residing in throughout this story.**

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

**EPOV**

Waking up, I feel so much better today than I did yesterday. I begin with the same routine, popping a pill and jumping in the shower, only this time I don't shave, I just trim it up, giving it a decent line. I don't have any plans today, and it feels good to have no other obligations. Tonight will be the last night for the next four weeks that I have to schedule out my time to anyone.

I check my cell, more out of casual routine than expectation. I'm surprised to see two voicemails; the first from Jane sent late last night, long after I was fast asleep.

"_Avoidance is the Devil's playground, E, and I love to play there. Meet me at the Hop Devil, Wednesday at noon!"_ she purrs.

I can't help the small smile that graces my face. I knew she would be persistent. The second message causes the smile to fade. It's from my father and it's a request that pretty much says _no_ is not an option.

"_Edward, we made reservations for after your final show at Aureole. It's been too long since we last saw you. Alice and Jasper are coming too, letting their nanny take care of Peter tonight. See you after the show."_

So much for having no obligations. I guess it's the better of two evils; if I didn't have the plans to go out with my family, I know a lot of the musicians usually have wrap parties before we all go our own way for the break. I have kind of been the outsider, and aside from some of the ladies who have a thing for the moody tormented types, they've learned to leave me alone.

After packing up all my stuff for tonight and grabbing a different suit, I decide to unwind. I'm still feeling pretty confident and in control ever since last night's release with J, so I take a seat at my Baby Grand. It's perfectly tuned, something I learned to do myself long before my world stopped turning. The ivories are my only true love; the only caress that fills me with honest, pure pleasure. I press a few keys and the hammers slam down on the strings, sending sweet notes through the air. It's the closest to heaven I have ever experienced on Earth.

After a few songs that always linger in my mind, I let go and just feel. Eventually picking a song turns into something different, something heavy with a hopeful undertone. I haven't written an original piece in a while, but these notes flow through me as if they were written into my very soul. Before I can get too lost in the beauty that's evolving, the alarm on my cell goes off and it's time to head to the Hall for the final show of this season.

I pocket a bottle of Vicodin for the day, just in case anything comes up in between now and getting home tonight after the big family dinner. But because I'm feeling so light and hopeful, I'm kind of looking forward to seeing my mom. Normally, when she asks about my life, it's _same old same old_ but the new song is so fresh with a feeling of renewal, I know she'll be just as excited as I am.

The concert is a breeze, and I feel a smile grace my face when it's over. The rounds of applause are heartwarming, a feeling that had long since left me. I see the sparkle in my mother's eyes and can feel the connection I've always shared with her through the music. I'm sure she can feel the change in me, too. The conductor, ready to thank all of his musicians, stops to speak with me before I disappear for dinner.

"Edward! That was truly a beautiful set. I look forward to working with you again in a few weeks and maybe seeing if we can try something new and fresh," he says and smiles in that mysterious way people do when they feel as if they've witnessed some secret. I guess Jane's night affected me more than I thought, because I can't help but return the smile and nod before I walk off to get changed.

Dinner is usually a big affair with my family. Reservations for a meal at Aureole will be nothing but the best. My family's been known to get chefs to open their restaurant's door on an off night, but there are usually extenuating circumstances. I figure after dinner with the family, I can go home to try and extract the song that was trying so desperately to get out. If the worst case scenario descends, I can hit an after-hours bar in case things don't go so well and then grab a cab or local town car home.

When I arrive, the family is already seated and the restaurant seems to be up and running for normal reservations. I still feel like there's a small skip in my step, and dinner with my family could actually be enjoyable for once, but I should've known better. I'm not that lucky. My steps falter. Sitting at the family table is one of my biggest adversaries, and my heart all but stops beating. My feet feel like they've been weighted down, but all I want to do is listen to my instincts which are telling me to turn around and leave. I can't believe she's here. Normally we avoid each other like the plague and that usually works just fine. The past few after-show dinners, she's been absent and that was okay because I usually turned down any invite I got to come to family dinners, but not tonight. My luck from the day has worn out. I reach into my pocket and feel the container of pills. My fingers tighten around the bottle as I feel the urge to pop a few. My nail grazes the ridges on the child proof lid, as my desire to be anywhere but here screams inside my mind. All because sitting there next to my brother Emmett is his wife Rosalie, Vicky's older sister.

_**One week after the accident…**_

_I've been given a temporary release from the hospital with the promise that I'll have a doctor with me at all times, and I'll return as soon as the funeral is over. I can't walk, being restricted to a wheelchair with a wrap around my head to protect my shunt. My sister had to fashion a special suit together, complete with snaps to get on over my casts. I'm wearing a black fedora to cover the fresh white hospital wrap. I'm going for Jake, but I don't want to be a cruel reminder to everyone else. This is my fault, I was intoxicated so I couldn't drive. Jake wasn't responsible, he didn't even have a sip. He died protecting me._

_Vicky's clinging to me, and all I want to do is shake her off. I'm suffocating! Everyone is trying to convince me it's not my fault, but it is. I persuaded him to go out with the guys even knowing he had an early morning. Vicky is worse than the rest; she cries as if it was me that died. What she doesn't realize is that I'm dead inside. I don't feel any comfort from her touch; her tears only enrage me. I'm empty; my soul is inside that sealed decorative box. They said the wreck made it impossible to have an open casket, so everyone's mourning blindly except me. I saw his face. I see it every time I close my eyes. I feel his cold dead stare when I look in the mirror._

_After the funeral, everyone heads over to my family's house, but I'm going back to the hospital, with Vicky directing me. She's a spotlight kind of girl; she plays the grieving friend, but in the confinement of my hospital room, her words slay me._

"_Thank God it wasn't you Eddie! I can't live without you!" It's sickening. Some friend! She's even brought some wedding magazines with her; as if this chance to have me strapped to a bed is her opportunity to have me help her pick out napkin colors and shit, like I still care._

_The next day, Vicky comes to the hospital wearing a tight, jade green dress that's completely inappropriate for her surroundings. She loves the color and how it plays on her bright hair color and green eyes - she's mentioned it to me on more than one occasion. She sets out a few books on table settings and food choices and I snap, swiping my good hand across the table, scattering her supplies to the floor. She looks at me like I'm a child throwing a fit, but it infuriates me to no end. It takes everything in me not to scream at her, but I control myself with a power I didn't realize I still possess._

"_Get out," I growl. She looks at me and pouts her lip, something I would have found cute and playful before the accident, but not any longer._

"_Eddie, the wedding is in a few months. We have to crunch. This accident has already been a huge interruption, and I missed my appointment at Kleinfeld's. So we need to make do with the time we have." Her words are like ice water. _Accident? ACCIDENT?!

"_What happened was no accident, it was murder! And you acting as if this wedding is the only important thing to focus on makes me fucking sick to my stomach! What kind of person does that, Vicky? The wedding is off! Now get your shit and get out of here." Her look turns venomous. I always knew there was a cold side in her, but I thought she would have outgrown it. I was wrong; she's just better at pretending than I am._

"_Listen here, Eddie! Whatever is going on is just a side-effect of this place and this situation. I'm leaving, but only because cooler heads prevail. This wedding will happen as planned. Both our families have been behind it since we were young. It's so much bigger than you and I right now. So take your pain meds, go to sleep, and I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." She says it so coolly, I feel a shiver run down my spine, and anger fills my chest where the empty void of my heart once beat warmly._

_As soon as she's gone, I get on the phone and call Irina, Rose and Vicky's youngest sister. She's a first year in University, and has had a huge crush on me since she lost her virginity at her junior prom. I never reciprocated her affections and she's made every advance she possibly could, but being the gentleman I was, I never entertained them. Now I couldn't care less. I tell Irina to come visit me in the hospital tomorrow; that her sister is being a wedding Nazi and I'm bored. I confirm with her to come about fifteen minutes before Vicky's supposed to arrive, and set out to end this engagement in the only way I can think of in my warped mind._

_Irina shows up on-time, looking like she's already been around the block once or twice today and it's still early. She doesn't waste any time with pleasantries, before she hops up on the hospital bed and makes a show of adjusting her bare legs, revealing that she's panty-less. I made sure to get my medications from the nurse before she got here, so I'm feeling no pain and a little high._

_I try to ignore the face of the young girl I've known since she was a child and close my mind._

_As I sit in the chair by the window, I see Vicky's Porsche roll up. I need to make this fast. I adjust my slightly stiffening cock as Irina watches, surprised that she somehow has an effect on me after so many failed advances. I watch as she rubs her thighs together, reminding me of a cricket. She slides from the bed to her knees in front of me and slips her hand up my leg. I close my eyes and give a theatrical moan as I feel her fingers wrap around the waistband of my sweatpants. She gives a slight tug and I lift myself carefully from the seat as she yanks my pants down around my knees as far as she can with my cast in the way. My cock is erect enough to turn her on. She mewls like a cat in heat. I try to imagine every sexy image I can to keep my erection from falling flaccid. She encloses her hand around me and gives a few pumps and I moan again, completely deluding her from the disgust I feel. She wraps her lips around my member, when the door suddenly opens._

_I keep my eyes closed to ignore the shock and pain I'm sure I would see, but what I hear is much worse. My fiancée has brought her sister - my brother's wife - with her today and the screams I hear are a combination of both women's voices as they watch their younger sister attempt fellatio on me in a hospital room. Irina jumps up and maneuvers herself in front of me so I can pull my pants up. Not sure why she's trying to protect me, but I don't care. The last thing I wanted was for my sister-in-law to see this. Vicky's crying out, loudly yelling profanities at Irina while Rosalie's standing there, glaring daggers at me._

_My task has been completed. The announcement of the absolved engagement spreads like wildfire, but the nature of our discord remains quiet to keep from shaming the sisters anymore. I don't care. It's the first step down the slippery slope, and now I'm falling freely._

I give my mom a quick hug and sit down at the table as all hope I had for this evening vanishes. Rosalie looks up from her menu to give me a scorned look, she plays the innocent princess very well, but I know once you ruffle her feathers she's a true crow. My family knows it has something to do with Vicky, but they don't know anything about Irina and the depth of my depravity.

Thoughts of telling my mom about the new song dwindle. As dinner progresses there's any easy conversation around the table, in which I participate sparsely. Every time I try to get into the discussion, Rosalie seems to be directing, she changes the subject. We've bounced around numerous topics, all of which are about sad _Princess_ Rosalie: her 'poor me' saga about not getting pregnant yet to the shop she owns getting more prestigious clientele. The only time the conversation is directed at me is when my mother asks about my music with a slight twinkle in her eye. I'm not sure what she thinks has me in such a good mood, but I know it's all thanks to J. When she asks if I've written anything new, I debate for a brief second on telling her, but the colorful snortle Rosalie produces puts too much of a negative spin on my silver-lined cloud. Yeah, snortle, it's a combination of a snort and a chuckle, which Rosalie does so well. I just give a small negative confirmation and finish my meal.

The rest of the dinner wraps up uneventfully, and I excuse myself to head to the bathroom. I've never been more relieved than I am in this moment when I grab my pills. Needing a quick fix, I use the handicap bathroom where I find the private sink. I pull out the bottle placing a few tablets on the counter, crushing them up with the cap into a fine white powder. My hands are shaking violently. It's been so long since I have had to inhale like this, but I feel the spiral of darkness pushing down on of me. I roll up a twenty dollar bill from my wallet, pressing a finger to one of my nostrils, and the rolled bill on the other. I snort the dust without haste. I clean the bill and put it back in my wallet, wiping down the sink to remove any evidence of my act and check the mirror. My eyes are a little red rimmed, and my nose is clean. I'm sure I can pass off this look as just being tired.

As I'm walking back to the table, I pass a little lounge near the bathrooms, where I hear a hushed conversation that catches my ear. Emmett seems to be upset with the little woman, and for once I realize how deeply my life's choices have ruined my family.

"Rose, we never get him to come out with the family! Just once, you couldn't cut the Ice Queen bullshit?!" He asks as she grumbles in reply. "Look, I know you have an issue with him, but how long do you need to hold this grudge?" He sounds exasperated, but it seems like a conversation he's had before.

"Em, I love you and your family, but he's a real headache for everyone. I don't know what he's ever done to earn your loyalty, but I swear to you he doesn't deserve it," she states, and I know she's right. I don't understand why my family keeps putting up with me. Why can't they just let me go? They would all be so much better off without me.

Not wanting to eavesdrop anymore, I head back to the table where I find Alice cuddled into Jasper's side, a sad smile catches his lips when he looks at me. I run my fingers anxiously through my hair, a nervous trigger I've had for so long.

The waitress arrives with the check as I go to sit down, and I pull my wallet out to pay before anyone can object. Carlisle looks stunned, Esme looks absolutely giddy, and Alice just smiles wistfully. When she returns with my card, I leave a nice sized tip and begin my goodbyes for the evening. I start with a hug to my mom and she kisses me on the cheek and whispers, "Can you make it to family dinner next weekend? I miss you." The hope that is laden in her voice almost takes my breath away. When she pulls away to look me in the eye, I wink and give her the,_ "We'll see,"_ answer that I've used so many times before. Her smile turns watery; I hope she doesn't cry.

Carlisle gives me the man hug and handshake. Jasper just shakes my hand and Alice practically falls into my arms. Her whispered words surprise and scare me. "Edward, for so long you've been surrounded by darkness, but I think your grey skies will turn blue soon. I see you." I try not to look like I'm hugging a crazy person. We always used to joke as kids, that she was born a little on the nutty side. But she always had strong feelings about things. We haven't spoken in so long, the last thing she ever said to me in relation to her _feelings_ was, "Don't fall down the rabbit hole." To which my reply was, "I already have."

Emmett and Rose arrive back at the table as I'm leaving, Emmett's face looking crestfallen and Rosalie ignoring me completely. I move in to give him a little one-armed side hug when he fully embraces me, tightly, like he's afraid to let go. I remove myself from his grip, saying a final goodnight before I head out.

I'm feeling a buzz from the pills, warming me from the inside-out and decide that hitting an after-hours bar isn't a bad idea at all. My family triggered a lot of deeply hidden emotions in me, ones I'd have much preferred remained hidden.

Walking to the bar is quiet; the streets are littered with the occasional couple or group of bar hoppers out looking for something to do. I debate going over to J's to get a drink, but after the busy night, I just feel like getting drunk on my own and then going home. I need to get out of these clothes, turn on the idiot box, and just pass out.

Walking past some restaurants and business buildings, I come across an alley. Normally, I would keep walking, having no interest in some dark cold corridor, but I feel drawn. A light shines down at the other end, hitting the street. It seems empty and desolate until I hear sniffling followed by some groans. I grunt in disgust, thinking of the homeless people that seek out refuge here, it's probably just some drunk, sleeping it off. Trying to ignore it, I'm almost back onto the continuing sidewalk when I hear a soft voice pleading for help. It's light and delicate, yet scratchy and raw, as though it's been used a lot.

My steps falter; my instincts telling me to go toward the sound. But God knows what could be down there. I may be no saint, but this is New York where we have gang violence, we have muggings, we have everything. Walking down that alley could be a trap. Part of me, long since dead, hears the desperation in the plea.

Ignoring my instincts, my muscles coil, and I slowly make my way into the eerie darkness, taking each step as quietly as I can. What I see about halfway down the alley sends me to my knees.

The scene blurs before me. It's different in so many ways, but it's still devastating. All I see is blood and glass. My eyes fill with tears as the limp body in front of me changes from a small female form to a thick tanned one. I see Jake, and it pushes the air from my lungs, causing my heart to accelerate in a panic attack. I feel the pain all over and my body locks up. I beg for Jake to wake up, for someone to help him.

The haze fades as I hear the repeated whimper again, "Please don't. Please stop." I stand up and freeze, afraid to approach her. I can tell she needs help. From what I can see, she looks pretty badly beaten. I hesitate just a bit more, hoping I can calm her enough to allow me to call for someone or get her to a hospital.

When I get closer, I fully take in how bad off she actually is. I notice that she's been stripped of all her clothing. She curls in on herself tighter, causing more of her body to slip from the coverage of the crushed cardboard box. Her back is facing me, but I can tell her body is covered in dirt and scratches, with hints of purplish bruises. Another part of me starts to take over; I'm suddenly very angry. I look at her frail form and want to punish someone, but there's no one here.

I speak softly, "Ma'am, is it alright if I call you an ambulance?" She tries to move further away from me, but just slightly since she's trapped between me and the wall. I see what looks to be scattered clothing on the ground and I truly hope she was able to fight off her attacker and that's she's not as damaged as she appears. Her soft sobbing is my undoing. I pull my cell phone from my pocket to dial 911, but have no service. Even the direct line to 911 isn't working. Perfect timing for Sprint's expensive piece of shit to be useless. I need to get her out of this alley, but I don't want to move her if she doesn't want me to. I _need_ her to trust me.

My voice is choked up with angry tears as I try to coax her again, "Ma'am, I can't call an ambulance from here but I don't feel right leaving you. Please," I beg, "please let me take you to a hospital. I promise not to hurt you. My name is Edward Cullen. I have a sister. Her name is Alice and I hope that if she were ever in this situation, someone would help her. Please let me help you. I'll get you to the hospital and I can leave and you'll never have to see me again, but we need to get you help now."

I'm still hoping she's not as bad off as my mind wants me to believe. Something in her seems to relax as she listens to my words, and I couldn't be more relieved. When she tries to move, I hear a small painful moan, so I reassure her that I'll help her stand. I remove the cardboard box from her legs to find her completely exposed. It seems that her underwear have been ripped off, all that remains is the elastic band around her waist. I feel the acid rise in the back of my throat as I try to hold down my dinner. I want to help her stand, to get her out of here, but after seeing her condition, I realize that standing might be more of a hazard.

I remove my jacket and attempt to drape it over her, but she's covered in so many cuts. Blood seems to be oozing from so many different places. It's hard to decipher all of her injuries, and I don't want to cause her anymore pain.

I see a backpack haphazardly thrown near her, things falling out of one of the pockets. Assuming it all belongs to her, I zip up the pocket after stuffing the contents back in, and sling it over my shoulder. I slowly lift her arm that's thrown across her chest and drape it around my neck. I try not to look as though I'm staring, but I want to be really careful not to disturb any of the gashes, unsure if any of them have nicked anything important.

I wrap the jacket around her bottom as I scoop her up and carefully reposition it to cover as much of her as I can. She adjusts herself in my arms with another moan while clasping her hands behind my neck. She's gripping something in one of her hands, but before I can see what it is, she buries her head into my shoulder.

I check to make sure there's nothing else she might have dropped before carefully carrying her to the street in search of a cab. I can't reach my pocket to get my cell without jostling her, but as I make my way to the street, I see a cab parked in front of a restaurant right outside the alley. People seem to be exiting the vehicle so as quickly as I can, without causing her too much pain, I make my way to the cab, yelling to the last person getting out to hold the door for me.

I slide into the backseat as the door is closed behind me. The group who exited just moments before stand, staring at the sight before them.

"East 68th street! Weill Cornell Medical Center, now! She's hurt," I yell out to the driver.

I adjust in the seat, trying to retrieve my phone without letting her slip from my hold. As I pull the damn thing out, I hear the cabby call out to dispatch on his CB radio that he's in route to the hospital.

Not really knowing of any other option, I move to dial Carlisle. "Please don't. Please stop," she's pleading again. I don't know what else to do, but I know she needs help, and I know he's the best person for that. When I go to dial the number, the girl in my lap loosens her grip from around my neck just barely to hand me what she has had balled up in her hands. It's a card, a business card and upon further inspection I see that it's my mother's.

"You know Esme?" I ask, feeling dread wash over me. In the light of the cab I can see dark chestnut hair riddled with dirt and debris. She looks so familiar but since I haven't gotten a good view of her face, I just can't place her. Especially not with the adrenaline rush and the new found knowledge that she knows my mother. My dad finally answers, and I tell him what I know and where we are going. He says he's on his way, but before he hangs up, I fill him in on the business card so that he can bring mom just in case.

When we arrive at the hospital, I tell the cabby to send me the bill, not giving two shits if he stays for a payment or goes. I burst through the Emergency Department doors, screaming to the Registration Nurse, "ER patient for Carlisle Cullen! Is he here yet?" Upon hearing his name, the typical triage bullshit ceases and I'm ushered straight over to a gurney.

"Please don't. Please stop," she repeats, begging again.

The nurses immediately get to work, not even waiting for me to place her on the gurney. They try to figure out where the blood is coming from, asking me a hundred and one questions that I don't have answers to. I just tell them I found her like this, but she's a friend of the family. They ask for her name, but I'm clueless, so I ignore the repeated requests. The girl is still clutching onto my shirt but has released me just enough so that I can place her on the gurney. She still clings to my hand like a lifeline. It's then that I get a better look at her and realize that it's the girl from the church. The one who looked familiar, maybe she's a volunteer. She was beautiful, but all I can see now is blood, dirt, and tears.

The name comes to me from Esme's lips, "Bella?" I look around when I hear her voice to see Carlisle and Esme rushing towards us. I start to pull back to let my father get to her, but the more I try to remove myself from her grasp the more she pleads, "Please don't. Please stop." She struggles to hold onto me tightly. She starts to panic, and then all hell breaks loose.

While the nurses are asking questions, they hook her up to some machines and she starts freaking out. Her heart rate is going through the roof. I don't understand a lot about these machines, just memories of personal experience which send another chill down my spine. I try to soothe her. I'm not even sure why I care; I should just leave. I feel like I'm too wrapped up in something I should never even be near. But the look in her eyes, the absolute fear and isolation captivates me, I know that look. She seems to trust me.

"Bella?" I try the name out on my tongue and it doesn't sit well. I feel like an intruder using a tool not yet given permission to use. Maybe her name is Anabelle, I don't know but I try to calm her. "Bella this is my father, Esme's husband, Carlisle. He's a doctor, and he can help you. We need to stop the bleeding. You've gotta let them help you."

She flinches as though I just slapped her. I guess she's not one to ask for help either. Oh, how the tables have turned. "Do you remember Esme? She's here. See," I try to direct her eye contact away from me. I feel as though she can see right through me, and it's unnerving.

Esme grasps onto the girl's other hand, trying to calm her as best as she can, but it's like no one can reach her; she's too far gone.

"Please don't. Please stop." She's frightened. I feel people starting to shove me out of the way, other nurses and orderlies trying to get this girl to release me so they can treat her, but when she sees the men trying to pull me away, it's like she snaps. The voice she once lost has been found again, and the screaming starts.

A darkness settles over me like no other. She's afraid of the men - my dad and the orderlies. It's them! I try to tell Carlisle while they're tugging on my arms. I scream and fight, but I don't think he hears me. He's too busy injecting the girl with what must be one hell of a sedative, because with one last chance she repeats, "Please don't. Please stop," in a soft, childlike whisper, moments after being medicated. The jacket which I'd wrapped around her fragile body has slipped away. The bright, white lights of the hospital reveal small gashes covering her body, but most of the blood comes from elsewhere… between her legs.

I start to lose it, memories of Jake and the accident flooding my mind. All the blood. Mangled bones. Glass everywhere. My body starts to shake out of my control. I feel like I'm drowning, like I'm being forced underwater, someone holding me down. I gasp for a breath that my body cannot get. I fight for freedom from the weights that are holding me down. My lungs burn as I drown, and no one is saving me. I should've died then. Maybe I'm dying now. As soon as I realize this, my body sags, and I let the bloody memories take me away to a dark place where I shut out the world and nothing else matters.

When I come to, things are blurred and slightly disorienting. I find myself in a hospital bed, the nurse is checking off a chart. It feels like this is just a memory, but it's not. This is actually happening now and I ask her what happened. She looks a little shocked that I'm speaking to her at all and quickly scurries from the room, reminding me of a frightened little puppy. I feel straps pinching the skin of my wrists and holding me down as I try to adjust myself. I'm covered in big warm blankets.

A doctor I don't know walks in and looks me in the eye. "Wow, you have your father's eyes," he says as if it's just everyday information. Like seeing green eyes is some kind of miraculous, familiar trait. The doc starts to explain how I started to go into some kind of PTSD panic and they had to sedate me for my own safety. I snort at the ridiculousness. Panic attack I get, but PTSD? Really?! I'm not a soldier suffering from combat-related memories.

He puts a hospital bag on the table next to my bed and starts releasing the straps, freeing me from the binds. He looks a little nervous as he explains that they were forced to call in a counselor due to the medication I had in my possession. It seems my pill bottle fell out of my pocket in the altercation with the orderlies. Carlisle apparently stopped them from putting me on psychiatric hold, explaining that I was already seeing a therapist. More bullshit to cover my tracks, and now more family sticking their noses in my personal life. But all of it means nothing when I remember why I was brought in here.

"The girl... Bella! Is she ok?" I ask, not sure if I truly want the answer, but the doctor only confirms that he can't reveal that information to me, doctor/patient confidentiality and all that crap. So unless I'm family, they can't release anything to me but that she is currently under sedation and that more problems arose beyond what was on the surface. According to the good doctor, I saved her life by bringing her in.

Once I'm released, I dress in some scrubs that were on top of the bag with my bloody clothing, my cell, wallet, and Vicodin which I promptly pop a few of. Being in a hospital conjures bad memories, and I don't know why I don't take off. I have no reason to stay. I did my good deed for the day, and I should go home, get showered, and forget the rest of this horrible weekend ever happened.

But I can't.

Just as I'm about to convince myself to go, a teary-eyed Esme comes running into me. I catch her as she collapses into my arms. Her eyes hold mine as the red-rimmed puffiness envelopes me, and I feel my once-dead heart bleed for my mother's suffering. I help her to stand straight, guiding her over to some chairs in the corner of the hallway. She's crying now and leaning on me, a sight I haven't seen in so long, and for once, I feel the urge to comfort her.

The muttering of Bella's name grabs my attention as she tells me all that I had feared. She was severely beaten, practically to within an inch of her life. The details Esme reveals swirl in my head as I have to talk myself out of another panic attack. Phrases like shards of glass, fractured ribs and leg… massive trauma as a result of rape… I'm sickened. I realize I avoid my family like the plague, but like I told Bella when I first found her… had this been Alice, I'd lose my mind knowing someone harmed her so terribly.

"You saved her life, Edward. If you hadn't gotten her here when you did, she would have bled out and died a horrible, painful death on the streets, homeless and alone. But you saved her." She sobs into my chest, soaking my scrub top through to my skin.

She was homeless? But she looked so normal at the church the other day. She was... beautiful. When she played the piano, it was magical. I couldn't have done better myself if I'd wanted to. She played with raw emotion and love and talent.

Lost in my own thought, I don't hear all Esme had started to go on about until she says, "She will have to stay with us. I can't let her back out to live on the streets. I knew I should've taken her in, but I knew she would never have accepted. She's so prideful. She's so much like you, Edward. We have to help her. You saved her life, but now we'll have to help save her from herself."

* * *

**End notes:**

**TWL: **Wow SSST… what an AMAZING chapter! I love the insight that we are gaining on our Eddie-boy. And Irina? REALLY?! Yuck! And Vicky's sister? He must've really been desperate!

**SSST:** *Sits down, exhausted* Yeah, sorry about that, but he was in a really bad place, in a bad situation and felt trapped. He did what he thought was his only option and it was a slippery slope that he fell down. But, he's been in the dark for so long, it will be interesting to see what happens when you shine a light on it.

**TWL:** We'll see! I just really hope they can help save each other! They're both so broken, especially now.

**SSST:** I've been broken and my husband wasn't all that put together either, so I know it's a long, hard path. But just because bad things happen in life doesn't mean good can't come from the darkness.

Also, we would like to send a special thank you to those who nominated us for the two awards, to those who've voted for us, and to those who've just been supporting us. Next Friday, as a special random act, Esme will have her very own short chapter with some behind the scenes insight.

For now TwiWifeLife and I will be on Facebook at The Wanderer's Refuge with our Wordless Wednesdays (pic teasers) and our biweekly Thursday Thrill (a paragraph teaser). Again, I hope you enjoyed the read and look forward to hearing from you.

So show us some love and give TWL some extra support because BPoV is taking us to a dark place that is a struggle for both of us.

**TWL:** Thank you to all for the extra support that you've been showing us.

I wanna give a heads up for our next full chapter, Chapter Seven, BPoV that will be posting in TWO weeks. It will have some violent scenes containing the rape that we have been warning everyone about. Please know that I will be writing this simply out of memory of my own experience. Nothing will be written to glamorize or romanticize the issue of sexual assault. I will be marking it so you can skip it if it's too graphic or you are too sensitive to the topic.

If you or anyone you know have been or are a victim of sexual assault, PLEASE talk to someone. Let someone know. Do not feel ashamed or responsible. Take it from two women who have fallen victim to sexual assault on more than one occasion, it is NOT your fault. If you want someone to talk to, please do not hesitate to contact myself or SSST. You can also call 1-800-656-HOPE.

We'll see y'all next week for Esme's small PoV and then for our regular scheduled chapter (BPoV) the following Friday! Be sure to head on over to the Fanatic Fanfics page and vote for all of your favorite stories, authors, artists, and betas. And if you feel so inclined, vote for us! ;) I will be adding the link to my profile here, if you need it.

See y'all later!


End file.
